


Five Years

by ruthy4vrsmoaked



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childbirth, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Minor Violence, Pregnancy, marriage law
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-10
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-01-31 12:29:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 61,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12681921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ruthy4vrsmoaked/pseuds/ruthy4vrsmoaked
Summary: Marriage Law Hermione and Draco are forced to marry each other for a periode of 5 years. Will it go unscathed? Romance, drama and some angst-sprinkles.This fanfic starts some time after the battle but ignores the ending of the books. An alternative path. *beta and new content added*





	1. The Beginning.

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Madzie2000 I decided to take her starting point of five years marriage obligation and take it in another pov.
> 
> This is my first attempt at fanfic writing, thank you for bearing with me and forgive me for beginners mistakes. All constructive comments are welcome. This work will be updated  
> regularly.
> 
> This is a work of fan fiction using characters from the Harry Potter world, which is trademarked by J. K. Rowling.  
> Thanking my beta Marlgrl94 and Lana for their amazing job, cleaning up my stupid mistakes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please welcome my dear GreenLana and Marlygrl94 as they are so sweet to help me beta my work. My gratitude is eternal!

“… Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy…”

 

The words fell like a hammer on her head, as if her worst nightmare has come to life and it's no April Fool’s joke.

Just moments before, the Ministry of Magic publicly announced all young men and women from the Wizarding World between the age of 18 and 45 would be assigned to another then be forced to marry and procreate new life to ensure the survival of the Wizarding gene because the Great Battle of Hogwarts had decimated the Wizarding population tremendously. Under the threat of being banned from the Wizarding World, the newlyweds were obligated to remain together for a five-year period, after which a split could be allowed if there were irreconcilable differences.

For a moment, Hermione wished they’d linked her to Ron Weasley, not because she would have been that happy as they didn't part as good friends but she would have preferred Ron to him. In fact, she would have preferred any other man to Draco, Pure-Blood-Lover, Malfoy.

As she waited, she considered running to another continent, joining the Muggle space program then moving to Mars or their ISS space station. Every possibility crossed her mind in an effort to escape him; any way out would be alright with Hermione but it couldn’t be Draco as anyone else would be a better alternative.

She looked up to see him approach her with his face full of anger, an anger her own face mirrored. She watched his stern looking grey eyes as they were run over her face. With a hostile smile on his lips he took an even angrier stance as his body language told her he too believed he preferred any other woman than Hermione Granger to be his wife and the mother of his children. She understood his demeanour and knew his disdain for her was because of her lack of blood purity which ensured her the entire Malfoy family would reject her because of her dirty blood thus assuring her she would have no right to be part of the Wizarding community.

His voice was raspy, cold and distant, "So, Granger it seems we are..." as he rooted his hands in the pockets of his black robes while glaring down at her. She thrust out her chin, holding it high in the air, “Malfoy, allow me be clear, the only way you and I will ever sleep together or have sex will be if I'm knocked out and completely unconscious. I want you to know I’d prefer carrying Filch's baby under my heart than to give birth to any Malfoy offspring. “Clear? Clear," as she poked her finger deeply in his chest with every spoken word.

Before anyone could see her angry tears, she turned around cape swaying and exited the assigned Ministry office stomping her feet loudly.


	2. Acceptance under constraint.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter on until the last, I want to thank Marlygrl94 and Lana for all the hard work of cleaning up this fic. Forever grateful.

##  **Chapter 2: Acceptance under constraint.**

Back at the sanctuary she called home, Hermione allowed her frustration to roam free: her chair got a rough deal as the  punching bag for her feet; her pacing back and forth nearly digging circles into the carpet in the living room of her childhood home. Her parents had died in a car accident shortly after she recovered their memories, undoing the obliviate spell she had used to protect them during the War.

"My life is ruined… I can't believe this… Me and the ferret? Five years? Fuck my life, just go and avada me right on the spot." Her fury was so alive, very much visible on her red face, red-rimmed eyes full of anger; wildly gesturing around her, switching between pulling her hair and her hands clenching in a fist, "That Malfoy git will never touch me, I'll hex his balls if his uhh… thing comes near my…" Another chair tumbled  from a new vicious kick.

With a humph she sits on her loveseat, sobbing, letting her head rest on her hands in defeat; and this is how Harry and Ginny found her later, their happy smiles dying fast at the sight of the distressed witch.

"Oh, Hermione, sis." Harry hurried to Hermione, engulfing her in a tight hug while sitting next to her, "Arthur and I have pleaded the Ministry to stop this stupid law, but they had no ears." His hands stroked her hair, searching for a way to calm the curly haired girl he loved as a sister, "We all regret that you and Ron weren't coupled together," a muffled female snort was heard, "Yeah, forget that one too. According to the Minister, the couples have been paired, based on the highest compatibility tests of sorts, and they must believe you and Malfoy to be each other's best match."

Ginny spoke for the first time, "'Mione, look at it from another point of view: he looks good, he…" Harry looked up with a raised eyebrow, "Ginny, love. Have you forgotten that I'm right here?"

"Tone down the jealousy Harry, you know that I love you, but I'm not blind, and he's a good-looking bloke for a snake." Facing Hermione again, Ginny continued her reasoning, occupying the seat next to the brunette, "You are stuck for five years, I know, it sounds like hell if you are matched with someone you don't like…" 

The brunette grunted, "Try hate." 

Ginny moves on, "Hermione, please. Okay, I know, you hate him. But you are stuck with him whether you like it or not unless you are willing to give up your magic?" Ginny looked deep into Hermione's brown eyes, "That's what I thought. Go with the flow, and don't kill him. Fantasize about, I don't know, that Thor guy you always talk about or another guy, while Malfoy has his way with your body. You'll have to have his baby and baby's mean sex, there's no other way around it." Sighing she continued her argumentation, "You might enjoy it, he's known to be the Slytherin sex god…"

Harry exclaimed, "GINNY!"

"Not again Harry. And don't worry, I don't need Thor, I have my own superhero." Wink and nudge on his leg over the girl she tried to cheer up, "Hermione, you know what? Come with us and spend a few days at the Burrow. You can rest, let my mum pamper you, and then you'll face Malfoy with a fresh mind." Ginny pulled Hermione from her seat "Go on, ‘Mione. Pack whatever you need, we will be leaving shortly." Her voice determined, giving the other witch no other option than to accept the last minute invitation.

-oOo-

Flooing into the Burrow, her mood changed completely. Molly had closed her arms tightly around her, in a simple warm mother-hen hug, and once Hermione freed herself, she faced a wide smiling George. "Leave it up to me, sister," he exclaimed, engulfing her in a bear hug, "I'll design a candy that does the opposite of those blue pills some male Muggles ingest for the performance, those Viaderas."

"You mean Viagra?" snorts Ron while all the others look at him, puzzled, "Not that I need it, I'm fully functional," his cheeks blushed redder with the second. On the contrary of Hermione, her ex-boyfriend was quite pleased with his assigned witch, Luna, "I could have ended with Pansy, that would have been hell." His happy demeanour only irritated Hermione more, but when she saw George give his best personification of Malfoy by imitating his mannerisms, she broke into a boulder laugher; his chin high up in the air, and his hand waved an invisible crumble from his shoulders, "Ah… five years… they'll be gone on a whim," his voice dripping from Malfoy’s high and mighty tone.

Harry added, "You are a genius Hermione, Malfoy will know better than not to mess with you," his arm was once again around her shoulders, hugging her tight.

"Enough with the murder plans, we have a huge feast to plan!" Molly became the Weasley sergeant, clapping her hands and commandeering Hermione to help with the planning of a triple wedding ceremony: Harry and Ginny's, Ron's with Luna and George's with his longtime girlfriend Angelina – the couple was relieved that their relationship had been acknowledged by the Ministry. The usual chaos in the Weasley house made Hermione forget her own frustrations, it even helped restore her understanding with Ron, albeit at a baby-pace speed. 

She was forced her to return to her reality with the arrival of a polite dinner invitation at Malfoy Manor, carried by an impressive eagle owl a few days later.  "To get to know each other better, it reads," her tone was sarcastic, reading the note out loud to the others, the elder Weasley pair were concerned about Hermione's state of mind. "I'll give him his ‘get to know' in his arse, him and his father, Mister Mighty Lucius Malfoy." The family matriarch remarked, worried, "You need to start accepting the course of your life, Hermione. The Malfoy's will be part of your life from now on, my dear."

Hermione heard Molly's comment, but decided to ignore it, "Ah ha! I'm getting married in a long-sleeved dress, one of those with a high neck and long skirt. In BLACK!"

Molly shakes her head, "Tsk, we will have none of that, my dear, it's a wedding, not a funeral. You will go shopping for a nice dress, together with Ginny and me."

Hermione couldn't help it, "It's my funeral Molly," her finger pointing at her chest, upset. "I'm not getting married to the man of my dreams, I am not going to have the forever-after fairy tale with a man that I long after, that I respect, and where it would mean the world to me to carry his baby under my heart. I'm being forced to spend the upcoming five years in an environment of hostility and disrespect." She began to pace in front of all those that had gathered around her, "Have they given us the chance to find a partner? No! They simply assigned us to one another, like cattle. So it is my funeral, my free will is being buried."

Molly sighed, "Hermione, I cannot agree with you more than I already do, but these are the cards you have been dealt with. You can choose out of two options: try to make the best of it, and I truly hope that along the way, you both can find a way to co-exist if better can't be achieved, or, you can make your life a living hell by only focusing on the bad side." She paused for a second to allow the words sink in, she continued, "My dear, you are a daughter to me, and no daughter of mine will be marrying in black. We'll find a nice wedding dress for you."

"No white!"

The older woman indulged, "No white."

-oOo-

Hermione apparated at the main doorstep of the Manor; although Malfoy's note mentioned that the wards had been adjusted to allow her within the house, she chose to enter through the front door instead of flooing in. Draco met her at the entrance, perfectly still and wearing a mask of indifference on his face, "Welcome to the Malfoy Manor, Granger." He politely extended his hand, which she accepted, and he escorted her to the great hall where his mum awaited; the older woman sported an unsure smile on her lips. Though her eyes spoke of sadness; Hermione couldn't help thinking, probably considering me to be the worst pick of a bride for her son.

"Welcome Hermione, I'm glad to finally meet you, my dear. Draco speaks highly of you," Hermione barely contained a snort as a reaction to Narcissa's welcoming words that sounded surprisingly genuine to brunette. "Come forward to the warmth of our drawing room Hermione. You don't mind me calling you by your given name, do you? Considering the circumstances, I think we should be less formal. As soon as the house elf brings us some refreshments, I'll give you a tour of the house, I assume you must be tired of the trip."

"Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy, for the warm welcome." Hermione didn't have the nerve to be rude to this woman, as she hadn't forgotten the part Draco's mother had fulfilled at the end of the war, a lie that played a significant role in Harry's victory.

"No Mrs. my dear, call me Narcissa, I want us to be friends," Narcissa insisted, murmuring to herself with the same breath, "I need us to be." She regained her control easily and continued, "Lucius will be joining us for dinner, but at the moment he has some urgent matters to deal with..." the nervous finger gesture showed Narcissa's uneasiness. What she really meant was, how Lucius was preparing his case against the accusations, he was being put to trial for by the Wizengamot, which could lead to his imprisonment at Azkaban, in the worst-case scenario for an undetermined period of time.

The trio entered the very room where Bellatrix had tortured Hermione, the word mudblood on her forearm itched all of a sudden or so she imagined. The memories invaded  Hermione, who faltered a step; the vivid reminders of her torture, however, got shoved aside in a heartbeat by sheer willpower, I can't run away from this damned fate and the acceptance that this room would be part of her life for the next five years.

A house elf approached with glasses full of ice tea, screeching "Homemade," but he muttered between his teeth, "The better wine is not to be given to a mudblood," side eyeing Hermione, ‘What have we become… Ouch, Auw Auw!"

"Watch your mouth, mutt," Draco pulls the elf by his ear till they are at same eye height.

Hermione waves with her hand, "Let him loose Draco, I'm used to Kreacher's bad talk, nothing new here," choosing to ignore the insults coming from the elf.

"I don't want him to be rude to you, he is to serve you with the same loyalty as he does to us as long as you live here." Draco's tone sounded dry to her but aggressive towards the elf,  "Do you understand Krops? You will not like the consequences!" Every word he says to the elf is followed by a rude shake at the elf's ear, dangling like a doll in Draco's hand.

"Yes, yes, Master Draco, certainly," with one last hateful blink towards Hermione the elf disappears from their sight.

"Take a glass Hermione, I hope you like ice tea," Draco handles it abruptly, his tone was dry once more. 

Their eyes met briefly, "Thank you." but she averted her gaze fast to his mother.

"My dear, my apologies for the rudeness of our elf, I'll have a decent talk later with that thing. But let us get to know each other. Draco told me you were one of the top students from Gryffindor, better than Harry…"

Hermione lifts an eyebrow in surprise, "I loved school, to be honest, runes was one of my favourites."

"So was Draco's, right son?" Narcissa looked curious from Hermione to Draco, hoping her son would let go of his closed demeanour, acting so distant was just increasing her own anxiety.

"Mother, not that much", he answered her gritting his teeth, this polite chit-chat was rubbing him the wrong way.

"Please son, don't be silly, you don't need to be ashamed of liking some subjects other than Quidditch and potions, rest in peace Severus" Narcissa makes a cross with her hand in a Muggle kind of way, drawing a light smile from Hermione.  The efforts coming from his mother differed intensely compared to the indifferent act of her son. If silence gets too uncomfortable, there will always be runes to talk about. What a beautiful foreseeable future ahead, indeed a lucky one ahead. Her thoughts couldn't be more sarcastic.

His mother tries again to break the ice, "Do you like to read Hermione? We..."

He sneered ironically, "I think there's no book in that library at Hogwarts that she hasn't read. Mother?" He faces his mother with an incredulous look in his eyes, as he feels a reprimanding tick on the back of his head, "Draco behave! I haven't raised you like this. Be gentle with your future wife." Narcissa could still make him flinch with a single glare.

Hermione ignored his comment, "I do enjoy reading Mrs. Mal… I mean Narcissa. I've read so many that I've lost count, even Shakespeare has gone through my hands, not only study books."

"I'm glad that the future Mrs. Malfoy is literate, at least." The arrogant words came from behind her, as Lucius entered the room, using his cane to increase his haughty attitude. "My grandchild will have some intellect coming from his maternal side as well." He looks down at her defiantly, while extending his hand, "We haven't properly been introduced in the past, I believe. I'm Lucius Malfoy head of the Malfoy family," expecting her to not meet his gesture. Hermione, however, does accept the hand, looking Lucius straight in the eye with a defying glare; she saw right through his game and refused to be belittled.

Silence filled the room, as Lucius looks horrified at their hands, fearing contamination of any kind.

"Hermione, please come with me. I'll give you a tour of the Manor, come," Narcissa stands up from her seat and gestures her to follow. "This is a huge mansion, owned by the Malfoy family for centuries and I lost count of how many times I got lost in the beginning. I was barely older than you, you know. I mean you're 19 right?"

As both women leave the room, one speaking, the other listening out of politeness, Lucius turns to Draco, in his authoritarian tone, "This is not going to happen, you'll not marry a mudblood, I won't allow it."

"Drop the insult, father. That word has lost every meaning; if your Lord has proven a point, it was that they bleed just like us." Draco paced nervously back and forth, the absence of Hermione gave him some room to breathe, and drop the indifferent mask he kept during the whole time, "What do you suggest me to do Dad? Should I avada her tonight, and share a cell with you in Azkaban? Throw her in the dungeons and hope Potter forgets about his beloved bff Granger?  Or, do you know a secret spell in which she can get pregnant without me touching her? Tell me," his gestures revealing his feeling of powerlessness, "I'm unhappy with this new law as much as you are but I'm the one who has to deal with it. Not you!" The rage in Draco's voice is burning. "She and I are both in this shit, haven't you seen her face? She would rather throw me at the fire pit if she had the chance, she despises me is as much as I do her. I wonder who was the genius who put us together?"

Lucius tried to intervene, "I'll speak to my connections at the Ministry and…"

"News flash Father: You have no connections." Draco could barely contain his angry words, spoken through his teeth, "That time was gone the moment you decided to join your Dark Lord's journey instead of ignoring it. YOU destroyed the very bit of dignity we still had, and you are facing Azkaban or even the kiss. Haven't you paid attention to Mother's grief?" His eyes were spitting fire, Draco's rage roaming free, "The time that people feared the name Lucius Malfoy belongs to the past Father." He stopped to gather himself together, sighing, "I have no idea how we'll survive five years together, one of us is more likely  to kill the other. I even dare to bet my galleons that I'll end with the short straw. She made it very clear that we will not happen. We will have no sex; we will have no offspring. Her English was quite articulated on that point. Zero room for any misunderstanding." Draco's hand shoved through his hair desperately. "Five fucking years, not one, nor two. Five." His glass shattered against the fireplace.

He faced the window, looking out into the dark, arms behind his back and deep in thought, as both women enter the room quite sometime later. His mother has a warm smile on her face listening to something Hermione was saying, though he can't hear what it’s about, but it was apparently making his mother smile. That image disarmed his frustrations and forced his rage to melt. Hermione clearly is more at ease with his mother, but as soon as her eyes made contact with him, the disdain she feels for him returns instantly in her gaze. However, his mother looks again the woman she used to be before the whole war, due in particular to Hermione's efforts and for that he cannot feel anything else but gratitude, a fact that he apparently attempts to display in his expression.

His mother's questioning at the dinner table, during their meal, disturbed by derisive snorts from his father, was alternated by Hermione's replies, which clearly ignored the animosity. Draco let the whole evening flow through him, in silence. In the end, they agree to meet the law requirements by marrying by the end of the week, with the guarantee from Lucius that the couple would have a separate wing at their disposal henceforth.

Draco walks her out, again through the main entrance, by her choice. She says her goodbyes, but he held her arm in a gentle gesture, "Granger, thank you for being nice to my mother. She's the complete opposite of my father, and also a victim of that evil force."

"Malfoy, let her be the only family member that I enjoy."

As she returns home, she can't help thinking, 5 years… 1825 days…43800 hours… unless they end up killing each other.


	3. Sealing Vows

##  **Chapter 3: Sealing vows.**

"Hermione Granger, do you take it upon you, to care and respect your husband, Draco Malfoy?"

"Yes." She answered the ministry officiant, gritting through her teeth while her glare silently adds because I don't have another choice.

"Draco Malfoy, do you take it upon you, to care and protect your wife, Hermione Granger…." 

He replies with a short, "Yes, I do."

"And now I pronounce you husband and wife, Mr. Malfoy, you may kiss the bride." 

They face each other; one is glaring, where other looks unfazed. Draco tries to kiss Hermione briefly on the lips, alas, his lips land more on the corner of Hermione's, who unexpectedly moves her head to the side, slightly. Polite small applause rises from the small gathering: his parents, Molly and Arthur Weasley, Harry with Ginny and Ron with Luna.

She had settled for a dark blue chiffon dress with an elegant princess neckline, mainly thanks to Molly's unfaltering efforts, claiming for the ninth-time, "This is a marriage, not a funeral Hermione!" The young witch adding yet, every time she heard these words. Draco wore black robes and jacket, white shirt with a black bow tie looking quite athletic and handsome; a detail that Hermione hated to admit. The devil did look good.

Narcissa's efforts to make it more unique had been partially declined, and the sober dinner took place inside a tent located in the garden, complete with a small group of violins for some extra romantic effect. The elves waited on the guests, as it was usual at the Manor.

The lack of interaction between the bride and groom made everyone uneasy, despite the insistent urging of both matriarchs. Molly frowned multiple times, disapproving of Hermione's demeanour, berating her once during a loo visit, "Hermione, is it so much to ask for you to at least smile at your husband just once?" 

"Molly, yes it is."

"My dear, what do you hope to achieve with this behaviour of yours?" Molly became slightly desperate.

"This is not my choice wedding. I'm forced into this. I hate Draco, for all the bullying, all the nasty he did to me. That does not disappear into smoke just like that."

"And yet, if you refuse to add your wine to his glass of water, nothing will improve."

"He hasn't asked for forgiveness yet."

"Hermione, be honest with me. Have you given him a chance to it? Given the fact that you spent the whole week with us at the Burrow?"

Hermione's blush came from an inability to denial at that remark.

To break the ice, Arthur inquires, "Hermione and Draco, where are you two going to spend the night? Is there some romantic venue waiting?" squinting out his face when the stabbing finger of his wife poked between his ribs.

"No Mr. Weasley, no need for anything in that optic," says Hermione with her chin up in the air.

"I think we need to get to know each other more, spend more time together first, before any romance can enter our lives" intervenes Draco, but unable contain a new sarcastic addition, with a lower voice, "An iceberg would offer me more warmth, at this point."

The bitchy remarks and the lack of interaction left no room for doubt, this was by far the worst pairing the ministry could have foreseen. Especially Hermione's attitude towards Draco left no room for any other interpretation, she had only agreed for a shared meal and had been very clear about skipping all other typical events for a wedding celebration, no bouquet throwing or a dance. 

The gathering didn't last long, and all the guests left two hours after the officiating, claiming all lame excuses to evade the uneasiness. Harry hugged Hermione one last time, "Don't be too hard on him, living in this kind of hate is torture for yourself. You both are stuck in this for the coming 5 years, try to meet him in the middle." Stroking a loose curl away, he stared concerned into her eyes, "Do it for me, Hermione, please. And if you need me, I'm here for you, just an owl away."

A watery smile reaches Hermione's face, "I know that Harry, I love you too."

Harry extends his hand to Draco, a wicked smile on his lips, "My sincerest congratulations, I wish you too much luck and healthy babies". A very loud humph follows, coming from behind the groom, and both men watch Hermione raise the seams of her skirt enraged, and march towards the mansion. The banging of a closing door causes the windows to vibrate. Draco sights deeply, "Thanks, Potter."

In no time, only the three Malfoy's remain in the tent, silent. Draco drops on the nearest chair, head supported by his hand, "I feel so lucky." His ironic tone cuts through Narcissa's heart, while Lucius rises from his seat and takes off, snorting. Narcissa however, offers the shoulder her son needs, sitting next to him and holding him close against her chest, ignoring his resistance, "I'm sorry son, I wish we could make her see what a man you truly can be." Her fingers ghosting over his face, shoving away some strings of hair from his forehead, "You are not your father, I know that you understand how unjustified this has been, the hate he taught you towards Muggles. Do you hate her?"

"No, Mother, I failed her. She needed us to defend her from my lunatic aunt, and I didn’t, I was a coward. I feared for your well-being and chose to sideline. Foremostly, I feel guilty towards her, no hate. A few years back, she pushed all my buttons for being such a know it all, always the best; I could never surpass her aside in flying. I felt frustrated, and yes, she got under my skin, so pestering her was the only weapon I had left." He was finally able to release his mother's hold, staring into space. Nevertheless,  both of his hands were held tightly in her grasp, "Son, I saw how she loves the Weasley's and Potter, I hope one day to see that kind of a look aimed at you." Her slender hand raised his chin up, forcing him to stare into her eyes. "Start by apologising for all the nasty you did. Yes, even a Malfoy can say sorry, don't give me that look." She puckered her lips, "Say sorry and take it from there, a step at a time. I can only wish that one day, she will make you happy, my son."

A soft smile showed up on his face, "Mother, I love you."

She returned him the emotion, "I know you do."

-oOo-

Hermione stared into space, sitting on her bed; silent tears fell from her face. Her fingers played absentmindedly with the golden ring around her finger.

Here I am, inside of a prison instead of a home, shackled tight in marriage with a man that I never would have chosen to be my life partner, in a million years. I fought a war to be free, and I end up more imprisoned than ever before.

She laid her head down on the pillow, closing her eyes for a second, feeling lost.

Someone knocks softly on her door, but she never heard it, sleep overtook her while sobbing in silent. Narcissa dared to come in and stared down with a concerned look on her face, drying the young witch's tears in a soft caress. Gently the older woman takes the heels off of the bride's feet and summons a blanket to cover her, whispering, "Give him a chance, please."

-oOo-

Hermione entered the breakfast room in the next morning, dressed in her working robes. Eyeing the setting of the table, she feels annoyed to see that the elves had covered her place next to Draco. "Good morning." Her dry greeting was her way of letting him know she didn't quite like the arrangement.

Draco gave her a head-to-toe and sneered, "You are going to work, Granger?" Going to work on our first day of marriage? Fantastic beginning.

"I don't have a reason to stay at home, Malfoy."

He didn’t hide his irritation, "What about you and I spend some time trying to get acquainted with each other?"

"Do me a favour Malfoy, just don't. You know all about me, I'm the swot, I have tainted blood, and I am the bucktoothed witch. So what else do you need to know?"

Lucius sneered, "Draco, I think that you should teach your wife some manners."

The vicious look Hermione gave her father-in-law, made even Draco coil in fear, "Did you use the same techniques on your wife?"

"Hermione, my dear, please." Narcissa felt the temperature rise and tried to defuse the situation.

"Narcissa, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I guess I don't feel hungry."  Hermione rose from her chair, walked around the table to place a soft kiss on the woman's cheek and headed to the fireplace, "Can I floo from here to the Ministry, Malfoy?"

"Granger, can you just let go of the drama and have some breakfast with us?" Draco felt his patience melt like ice under the sun.

"Drama? Which drama, Malfoy? Now, is it too much to ask for an answer?" Her tone kept a vicious underlay, the anger just under her skin eager to explode.

He threw his hand towards the hearth, breathing out loudly, "It's open for the Ministry."

Her hand grabbed a pinch of floo powder, "Narcissa, I'll see you tonight." 

None of the remaining Malfoy's said a word, until Narcissa broke the silence, "Was that really necessary, Lucius?"

A dismissive glare was her answer, "I don't know what you are talking about?"

"How about you keep your personal point of views to yourself? It's already difficult as it is, without your remarks in addition." She felt a headache coming up, the reluctance of Hermione to get along with her son, no matter how justified it may be, gave her a great deal of concern.

"Mother, let it go, I don't want you and father to have a disagreement because of my fucked up marriage."

"Draco, can you talk with Harry?"

"Do you expect me to grovel and ask the golden boy for some suggestions from the 101-book ‘how to deal with Granger'?"

"No Malfoy should bow to a woman like this." Lucius words barely left his mouth, before he visibly coiled from the angry glare his wife send him. 

"Lucius I suggest you keep your mouth closed at this point."

"You know I'm-"

"Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, don't make me warn you again!"

"Mother-"

"Do you think I was all happy girl when I learned that I had to marry your father? I wasn't. I was scared, I had no idea of who he was, and the happy life that I used to know just vanished in a second." Her eyebrows still frowned to a line, "My luck was that your father turned out to be a gentleman, and with time I learned to love him."

"Granger is not afraid of me, Mother, we have spent six of our school years together."

"And what exactly has she learned about you? What exactly have you done to make her wonder if behind that petulant child – who is used to having it his way…"

"As he should." The mumbled words coming from the father were not appreciated, and the annoyed look made him redraw the words he was about to say, after which she continued her reasoning, "…as I was saying if behind the spoiled boy there's a man that could love and care? She's a strong woman, and like you said, not afraid of you indeed. But she's not fond of you either, and that is something you'll have to change, respecting her own pace. You don't attract bees with vinegar son, you have to do it with honey."

"What kind of stupid advice is that? My dear wife, are you feeling ill?"

"Ignore your father." Her waving hand endorsed her words, "Be gentle, kind and the boy I know you are, not the one you let people see. In time she'll loosen up for you."

"Fine Mother, I'll do as she pleases, let her set the pace. After all, there's not much more than I can do, right Mother?"

-oOo-

Hermione arrived at the Ministry and apparated immediately away from there before someone saw her. Her plan was not to work but escape the Manor, to ease the suffocating tension inside that house. Appearing seconds later at the apparition point close to her childhood home, she entered the home and headed to her bedroom, inside her safety cocoon, curling around her pillow in a fetus position. Emptying her head from all her thoughts, she closed her eyes and let the grief exit her soul, sobbing quietly into the feathered pillow.

Her argument with Draco just moments ago had drained her spirit again; she was now forced to live in that prison, surrounded by people who despised her origin, far from her friends she considered family. She’d never felt so alone.

She remained there for a while until she gathered her strength to get up and leave the house, using the apparition point to travel to the cemetery in Hampstead, where her parents were buried. She kept walking until she reached their graves, conjuring a blanket and sitting cross-legged in front of the marble tombstones and conjured an invisibility spell with a muffliato to hide her presence and give her the privacy she needed to talk freely.

"Mum, Dad. What do I do? I've been forced to marry Malfoy, you know him, the boy that called me that horrible name and made fun of my teeth, always laughed me out for being a swot, a know-all. He made me feel unwelcome in the magical world, talking crap about pureblood and filthy mudbloods. I was tortured in his own house, by the hands of his aunt, suffering the most horrible pain and disgrace. And now, the very ministry that I helped save, have forced me to marry him and live in that same house. They want us to have children together, to increase the wizard population. What am I? A brood mare? Nothing more than a baby factory? Without even have a saying in the choice of a partner?" 

Her tears ran freely down her cheek, a hand drying them some now and then, while she spoke, "People tell me to give him a chance, that in time I could learn to love him. I don't want to love him, I despise him, mum. Even Harry tells me to not be so hard on him. But Mum, he has done nothing nice for me, nothing to make me think that I could be wrong, so why should I not be hard on him? Why should I allow a complete stranger, a nasty one, to touch me? To enter my body?"

Hermione let her head fall on her chin, utterly lost and lonely. "What should I do, Mum? Dad?"

She lost track of time, ignoring even the signals of hunger, only murmuring a hot air spell to keep her warm, her hand on her mums tomb, caressing the cold stone. She grunted of discomfort from sitting for hours in the same position, when she rose to her feet as the sun started to go down. Knocking away the bit of rubble on her robes, she vanished the blanket and headed to the Apparition point using a mid-stop at the Ministry before her final destination, the manor.

Landing on the central hearth, she walked to Narcissa, placing a soft kiss on her cheek, "Good evening, sorry I'm so late, lost track of time." Nodding briefly to Draco and Lucius,  acknowledging their presence without addressing them.

"Don't worry dear, have you had a productive day?" The older woman was surprised by the sweet gesture, not being used to be greeted this familiar, but as usual, nothing showed on her face.

A shrug from Hermione's shoulders preceded her answer, "I used the day to ponder on some things I needed, before moving on. So in a way, it was very productive." 

She headed for the main stairs, "Hermione, aren't you going to join us for dinner?" Narcissa had noticed the dark rings around the young woman's eyes.

"Thank you for your invitation, but I'm feeling a headache coming up. I might have overdone myself."

"Granger, you need to eat."

"Malfoy, don't worry about me. Have a good evening, and excuse me for my absence." She ran up the stairs and closed herself up in her room. Changing into some comfortable pyjama pants and shirt, she cried herself to sleep, for the second night in the row. 

In the dining room, Draco threw his arms in the air, "I give up Mother, she can do whatever she wants, I don't need this kind of bullshit. I'm going outside to fly and empty my head. Don't wait for me to dine."

Left alone, the Malfoy pair faced each other. Lucius stared accusingly at his wife, "This is what our family has become, my dear. At beck and call from a mud-"

She holds her palm up, "Lucius, just don't. Learn to refrain from using that word. Instead, help me find a way to bring these two together. The girl is hurting, and so is our son. And I'm out of suggestions."

"You expect me to be a matchmaker in this? My dear wife, are you right in the head?"

"Not even for your son's sake?"

"My son would be happier with a pureblood witch at his side."

"I think that Hermione could be the perfect woman for him. She challenges him instead of boring him. Our son doesn't want a Barbie poppet at his side." Throwing her approach to another side, she closed in on him, seductively, "Do you remember me, when I was young?"

"Dear, you come from a worthy family."

"That's not the point." Playing with the top buttons from his Oxford, she stared into his grey eyes, "Would you have been happy with me, if I was a following meek sheep? I remember that you fell for my witty remarks."

"Mrs. Malfoy, you are giving me a hard time."

"I'm just trying to ply you into my will. You will change your ways towards Miss-Granger-now-Mrs-Malfoy, and you'll do it for me. Right, my dear?"

A raised eyebrow followed his compliance, "Do I have a choice?"


	4. Tea and Biscuits.

##  **Chapter 4: Tea and biscuits.**

 

"Good morning Narcissa." Today's beginning of the day almost seemed a copy of the day before, Hermione joined the Malfoy family at breakfast, her place at the table back to the original setting, which was next to her husband's; however, instead of snarky remarks, she received a calm greeting in return coming from him. If he behaves so will I.

"Good morning Hermione, have you slept well?" Lucius animated inquiry drew a suspicious glare from her, "I have, thank you, Lucius." Her polite answer was still sprinkled with a sniff of sarcasm; he called her by her first name and was behaving politely? Who is this man and what has he done with the real Malfoy?

Narcissa gave her husband an intense look, before addressing her daughter-in-law, "Hermione, are you going to work today?" It didn't escape her that the young witch was wearing more sportive attire this morning. 

"No Narcissa, I'm heading to the Burrow, helping Molly with the preparations of the triple wedding ceremony, two weeks from now."

"Hmm, it will be indeed quite an endeavour." Dipping the corner of her mouth clean with the napkin from her lap, she made an attempt to sound interested, not that the Weasley's wedding really mattered.

"I guess you are right." Hermione wasn't fooled into believing this interested inquiry but decided to go with the flow and be friendly, it was her mother-in-law after all, "Narcissa, I wondered if you would like to go shopping with me. I was thinking of a new robe for the ceremony, and I could use your advice finding something elegant to wear." Hermione threw the proverbial fish into the water, wondering if the efforts really were genuine or just pretending to be interested. 

"Dear Hermione, I would be delighted to accompany you. Do you wish to go to Madam Malkins or do you have something more exclusive in mind?"

Draco followed the conversation carefully, Hermione's suggestion brightened the mood from his mother considerably, and he appreciated the gesture, even noticing that his father was doing the same.

"I think Madam Malkins will suffice, exclusive means out of budget for me. And I probably will not be wearing the gown more than once."

"We, the Malfoy woman, never repeat our attire at an event. But you shouldn't worry about the cost, my dear."

Draco added, "You have access to the Malfoy vault since we married, Granger."

Time to cross some T's and dot some I's, "I make no intention of using any of your money, Malfoy."

"And why the hell not, Granger? You will need to proper attires to fulfil the true role of a Malfoy wife during public events…"

"I am well aware of that-"

"It's more than appropriate that I would cover the costs, Granger."

"Narcissa, if you insist on using the family wealth to pay for my dress, then I'm afraid that I'll redraw my invite." She glowered now at mother and son, refusing to use their money for her personal expenses; already expecting the headlines in the nearby future, painting her as a gold digger after she filed for divorce. She could miss that as much as a toothache.

Narcissa sighed, signalling Draco with a raised eyebrow to refrain from more comments, "Hermione, if that is your wish, then I'll comply. I would love to rejoin you and help you choose an elegant gown for the upcoming wedding." The nod she received in return, relaxed the anxiety she sensed upcoming, "When you would like to go?"

"I was thinking about tomorrow, I'll be spending the whole day at the Burrow today, but I promise to return on time for dinner."

"It would be nice for once to have my wife with me during dinner." The sassy wasn't so far away.

"You need my help to cut your food for you, Malfoy?" She defied him on the spot, her chin in the air. His mood was giving her a whiplash, from friendly to sassy and explicit snide remarks.

He scowled, but swallowed his miffed reply under his mother's warning glare; his father, however, didn't hide his snort. Peace at the dinner table was a delicate issue, so it seemed, "Granger, fine. Do as you please."

"Narcissa…" Hermione kissed the woman once more on the cheek; "…I will see you tonight," bobbing her head towards the men before leaving.

"Mother…" His strained hands demonstrated a strangled gesture.

Merlin give me strength for these two, "Patience son. Tomorrow I'll be able to spend some time with this girl, see what I can do." 

-oOo-

"Hermione! It's great to see you, but what are you doing here?" Ginny took no prisoners and voiced everyone's thoughts on her arrival. "Don't you have a husband to tend to?"

"He doesn't need me, I'm better off here with you lot."

"Hermione, my dear, forgive the bluntness from my daughter, but I wonder the same. You just got married two days ago." Molly joined her from the kitchen; the worn-out towel locked on her apron, grasping Hermione's face in her two hands before planting a kiss on both cheeks, "You should be at his side, trying to get along."

"I don't feel at home inside that Manor."

"And you never will, if you spend your days somewhere else." That last statement was slightly reprimanding, and Hermione prefered to retreat, instead of proving her point.

She knew Molly was right, they would never have an honest chance at least at friendship if she kept pushing him away. Only, looking at the attractive ferret was enough to raise her blood to boil temperature.

Ginny rescued her from further sermons, driving the attention away from Hermione's struggle to a bundle of Weekly Witches special editions full of bride gowns, and the day flew by between choosing colour settings for the tent and decorations, the flowers they wanted to use, the catering, and so on.

It led to some heated disagreements, the three brides couldn't agree about the floral centrepieces, each with their own taste. Ginny wanted absolutely to have red roses, while Luna had a preference for sunflowers and Angelina's taste went to orchids. The tattering between the women ended in an overnight standoff, in comparison to the choice of menu, which was solved within the half hour.

Before she knew, the clock sounded five pm, reminding Hermione it was time return home with Molly's strong reminder to quit the act and start to find common ground with Draco.

During dinner, with delicious roast beef served by the elves, Narcissa asked her son how his day went - It was only the three of them, Lucius was absent due to an appointment with his layer. Her son, however, did barely nothing to hide his constant irritation, "Now I'm not enjoying a honeymoon period, I've decided to drop by the company and work further on a few hanging issues, some agreements need closure."

Hermione refused to engage in his snarky comment, focusing on the delicious plate in front of her, and paying attention to Narcissa’s conversation, "And you, Hermione? How was the day at the Burrow, the preparations are they developing as desired?

Smiling softly, Hermione gave her a relay of the day, "You cannot guess how long it took for them to choose a wedding dress. It exceeded over three hours of detailed dissection of more than ten issues special bride edition from the Weekly Witches." 

Her mother-in-law chuckled in understanding, "Every woman wants to be the most beautiful bride in the world."

Draco added, "All except one mother, my bride didn't care about those details, too trivial to worry about."

She bit back, "You should consider yourself happy, my first choice was a black dress, Malfoy."

"And your refusal to use the Malfoy wealth for personal use does not rhyme with your choice for a black dress, that's a black widow's trait, Granger."

"This way you cannot go and complain to the world that I drove you into bankruptcy, ferret."

"Draco, please stop this. Hermione, do me a simple favour-"

"Narcissa, I'm starting to like you very much, honestly. But your son can't refrain from pushing my buttons. Just like old times."

"Mother, my apologies."

"Wow, I can't believe this. Now you are going to play the-good-son card? Really, Malfoy?" Her eyes spitfire, as her temper, rose to volcanic levels. 

"Was it too much to ask for a real wedding dress? A smile on your face?"

"If you really want to know, yes. A ferret was not my choice of ideal husband."

"No, it should have been a ginger head instead. That Weasel you dated, who's dumber than a donkey."

"Leave Ron out of this."

"Draco! Hermione!" Narcissa felt powerless against the rage between the couple, her efforts to end their quarrel were useless.

"That lousy mongrel of a ginger head was the man of your dreams right? By the way, are you a virgin? Or has he popped the cherry?"

The sound of her hand hitting his cheek hard, echoed through the walls; Narcissa's intake of breath was the only sound that followed, shocked by her son's words and the brunette's reaction.

"You'll have to excuse me Narcissa, I will leave the rest of our conversation for another day." Rising from her chair, Hermione marched to her bedroom, angry, hurt, and embarrassed at the same time, forcing back the sobs until she was inside her private quarters.

She was almost at her bedroom door when Draco grabbed her by her wrist and turned her harshly to him, "Granger, that is the last time you strike me. I've never hit a woman, but your behaviour makes me want to break that golden rule.”

She struggled to get her wrist loose, looking him straight in the eye with her red-rimmed eyes, "If you don't release me immediately, I'll hex your balls off and make you feel them in your throat." Her threat didn't carry the power she meant, her voice broke outside her control.

Draco felt instant remorse for his words, knowing that Hermione wasn't the weeping kind of witch. Watching her break like this in front of him, due to his actions, forced him to change his stance. His voice softer with his next words, releasing the hold on her arm, "Look, Hermione, I'm-"

"I hate you Draco Lucius Malfoy. I hate you with every fibre of my body. And for your information, it was Victor, not Ron, who popped my cherry. Satisfied? Or are you now offended that your Muggleblood wife isn't a virgin anymore?" She turned around, and fled into the safety of her bedroom, locking it with a spell before she slid against it to the floor, broken from their argument.

She heard him knock on the door softly, "Granger, Hermione, I'm sorry, I went too far. Please let me in, let us talk about this." But she refused to listen, his previous words on rewind inside her head, making her sob harder. Subsequently, she shuffled to her bed, transfigured what she wore into some pyjamas and fell asleep, lamenting her bitter reality.

-oOo- 

The following morning Hermione dragged her body under a refreshing shower, to wash away the tiredness she felt after a lousy night of sleep. She needed all her courage to deal with the newest episode Draco Malfoy would surprise her with. Putting together a casual outfit, she met with the rest at the breakfast table, dropping a kiss on Narcissa’s cheek out of habit, which was retributed by the blond witch who extended her cheek automatically. To everyone's surprise, she instructed Krops to set her place next to her mother-in-law; digging more distance between herself and her husband was impossible without being rude to her in-laws.

An indignant snort came from the head of the table, which Hermione ignored entirely. The few stolen glimpses towards Draco taught her that she wasn't the only one who spent a bad night, but she was relieved that he refrained from any comments, let her have it her way while he was apparently unhappy with her decision.

Cautiously, Narcissa tested the waters, "Hermione, my dear, are we going to Diagon Alley today?"

"Of course, Narcissa, I only hope that Madam Malkins is my only stop on this find-the-gown quest, I dislike shopping for clothing."

"As a reward, you could treat yourself with a visit to Flourish and Blotts."  Draco tried to partake in their conversation, yet, Hermione answered coldly, "Possibly." 

"That's an excellent suggestion Draco, I'm sure Hermione has some valuable suggestions for some new reading. Maybe you could join us there?" Narcissa felt a surge of hope, using the bookstore excuse to involve Draco in their trip. 

"Narcissa, I give preference to a women-only trip, if you don't mind, just you and me. Unless you really insist." 

"If that's what you really want, my dear…" the woman’s deception was tangible, the hope was destroyed nearly instantly.

"Mother I prefer to sit this one out…" Mother and son shared knowing looks, and the older witch knew better than not to press further, she knew perfectly when to pick her battles.

"Very well, I'm ready to accompany you when you're done." Narcissa's face and tone were unreadable, polished by the many years of experience circling the high society.

Their trip to Madam Malkins was a quick success, both women fell in love with a lovely pale old pink satin off-shoulder long dress, with elegant open back detail, the bodice hugging Hermione's shape in a delicate feminine way. It was similar to the one Hermione wore at the Yule Ball with Victor Krum, "Hermione, it’s  like this dress has been made for you." Narcissa was gladly surprised by her son's wife elegance, her body was perfectly shaped;  _ I can quickly name who of my pureblood acquaintances would love to have the hourglass figure Hermione hides under her usual robes. The only thing this witch needs, _ she thought,  _ is some useful spells for her bushy hair, it lives life on its own _ . Now the dress hunt was almost done, her scheming mind was ready for the next step of her plan: soften the witches’ attitude towards her son. The enthusiastic way Hermione was swirling in the dress, who enjoyed sweetly how the skirt flowed freely, drew a soft smile from Narcissa.

"Hermione," the light nudge for the financial source buried dead with a decisive shook from the brunette's head, and the blond witch waited patiently until the dress was paid, "Now we are done, sooner than we expected, would you like to have some tea?" This suggestion was met with a genuine smile, much to Narcissa’s delight. They chose a quiet table at the tea parlour, debating if they would settle for a slice of carrot cake or just some biscuits. When the waitress left their table, the blond witch didn't wait for a second longer, "Hermione, can we have a heart-to-heart?"

Sighing, Hermione nodded, "I imagined that much, Narcissa, bring it on."

Shaking her head, the blonde witch began, "It pains me to see how you two get along."

"You mean don't get along." Hermione answered with a snide but regretted the tone almost immediately, "I try, Narcissa, I really do, but he has this gift…"

"A trait inherited from his father, my dear. After 20 years of marriage, I still go through it. Yet, you can refine the art of ignoring or knocking it out without resenting to this animosity. I'll be honest, it takes years to master, but it's possible."

"Was Lucius…?"

"He was a lot worse, my dear; he was so used to get what he wanted the second next to his request. Darling, these Malfoy men need to be educated. I admit to being guilty of spoiling my son rotten. He is my only child…"

"Didn't you want more children?"

"We both did, Hermione, but nature decided differently. After a few failed attempts, we simply gave up." A younger hand squeezed an older, over the tabletop; compassion is the last thing I expected from this witch. "I'm sorry Narcissa." A free hand waved it off, "Thank you Hermione, but there's no need. I've made peace with this, a long time ago. Now, returning to our previous subject, I'm going to ask you for a favour. One I honestly hope you will abide, namely, learn to ignore my son's bantering, ignore his button pressures, so you finally can look beyond his mask and find the real man." Two pairs of eyes stared at each other intensively, "Because I know something that you have yet to discover, dear. The Malfoy men are also incredibly romantic, and love to spoil their women." A slender finger rose, silencing a rebuttal, "Uh huh, I know this for a fact, Lucius is one when he wants, and my mother-in-law told me this about her own husband, the late Abraxas. I have no doubt that Draco will be the same. If you let him."

Sipping from her cuppa, Narcissa let her words sink in, before continuing with a smirk, "I recommend that we leave this woman-to-woman be and would like to suggest to exercise the favourite sport of a woman: Shopping."

Hermione shook her head, sighing through smiling lips, "One, about your favour, I'll try, I will sincerely do my best, but I don't promise anything. Two, we should follow your son's advice and visit the bookstore down the corner."

-oOo-

Their giggles were the first thing that announced the arrival of both women; nightfall was setting in and the house elves were busy setting the dining room ready for the evening. Lucius eyed the way his wife was smiling wide, listening to a remark from the younger witch. Behind them a small trail of shopping bags followed, levitated by Hermione's wand, a trail that ended with some garment bags he suspected to contain a few new additions to the female's wardrobes, "The ladies had fun today, I see."

"Lucius, don't worry, your little vault doesn't even feel the difference." His wife winked at the brunette, in a true act of female conspiracy, "I'll only need that much more room in that library of yours, a shelf or two." He cocked his head, "Did you buy the whole bookstore?"

"Mr. Malfoy, I believe the bookstore still had some books left, probably in the cookbooks section," Hermione interjected, well moodily. 

"Are you sure you don't need one or two of those, Granger?" His snide was met with a glowering face, but as she was about to start and bite back, she closed her mouth under the intense glare Narcissa sent her. She closed her eyes, drawing in a few breaths to compose herself. Draco, however, was relentless, "Unless you are finally surrendering to the need of having a house elf or two for the household."

A cold female hand closed around Hermione's wrist, "Son, we had a lovely day, thank you for asking. If you really wish to learn how to cook, I'm sure your lovely wife will think of buying you some volumes, the next time she goes shopping. Won't you, my dear Hermione?"

The brunette's eyes blazed with fury, taking the hint and using it in her favour, "Narcissa, I’ve actually heard of this newest sensation, it’s called, ‘Cooking for dummies'." The matter-of-fact look on her face was met with a sly female smile, especially when it was met by a scrap of a throat hiding a male smirk, and an undignified growl.

"My dear, we should go to our quarters, change into something more comfortable and join these two gentlemen for dinner." Her mother-in-law attempted to diffuse another explosive moment, "I agree, Narcissa but you are wrong about one aspect. I only see one gentleman." Leaving those words hanging, she spun around and took off to her room.

It was silent for a few moments, "Mother, I-"

"No, Draco. You listen; I'm trying really hard to make her change the view she has about you. And every time I think I'm successful in the matter, you go and ruin my efforts. What is it that you want, son? A miserable life or maybe a chance at what I have with your father?"

"But Mother-"

"Son, your mother is correct. That was the first time I’ve heard your wife laugh in this house since she's been a part of our family. Remember son, you catch more bees with honey." He shared a knowing look with his wife, while their son threw his hands in the air, mumbling, "It's always something with that Granger."


	5. Flowers and Conspiracies.

##  **Chapter 5: Flowers and conspiracies.**

 

“Narcissa, I need you!” Letting her fall into the seat next to her mother in law, in the late afternoon, she sighed deeply and threw her head behind, leaning on the back of the Victorian settee. Her arms were spread wide over the seat, legs extended after kicking her shoes off. The blond witch was amused; curling her lips into a smile while her husband first frowned at such behaviour. The frown, however, didn’t last long under the rambling coming from Hermione.

“You have no idea what it’s like to be in the middle of a fight concerning flowers! Narcissa, flowers! Merlin’s sake, how difficult can it be? I mean the guest list for the three pairs are almost identical, there are maybe three or four couples per pair that are different, and so it should not be so hard to reach a consensus. And still, after three days of tattering, I’m about to explode if I hear one more argument about centrepieces.” 

Even Lucius couldn’t hide a smile, it wasn’t hard to imagine the chaos, Hermione continued her rambling, “’Cissa, you know all about flowers, red roses, sunflowers and white orchids. This combination is not the ideal for table centrepieces is it?”

Narcissa chuckled, “No, my dear. Tell me, for the rest of the decoration, which colour theme have they chosen?” Her daughter-in-law pondered for a minute, pouting her face, “The linen and such, you mean?” The other woman nodded, “Oh, let me think ‘Cissa,” counting on her fingers, she recalled the other details, “The tablecloth-”

“I’m surprised that the Ginger head family uses tablecloths, don’t they eat at wooden benches, like poor people do?” Draco arrived at her last comment, unaware of the full conversation halfway.

She sent him a deadly glare, but continued to answer Narcissa’s question, “They will go for cream white tablecloths and decorations around the tent, keeping it neutral but elegant.”

“Elegant and the Weasley family? Don’t make me laugh.”

“You can say the same about ferrets. Now ‘Cissa, what do you think?” Her tone went from a snide to calm in the space of seconds. 

“Will it be white all around?” Narcissa was getting annoyed with her son's behaviour, noticing the same look on her husbands face - both sent Draco warning looks to drop it really fast - and focused again on the topic of their conversation. “Hermione, will they not combine another colour? It will be a bland scenery, all creamy white.”

Hermione looked pensive, “I guess you are right, I’ll suggest it tomorrow.”

“And you also could suggest them, to use the choice of flowers on the bouquets of every witch and let the centrepieces be neutral. A win-win situation for everyone, because the guest list is identical save for minor details.”

“I agree, my darling.” Lucius approval surprised the younger witch, but her own husband chose to cut in, with a new annoying remark, “Father, we might have to invoice Mother’s efforts, she’s acting as a wedding planner for free.”

Lucius reprimanded, “Son…” while Narcissa retorted, “Hermione, ignore my son, dear, he’s experiencing a temporary malfunction. His brain function is off.”

Hermione shrugged off, much to Lucius surprise, “It’s his normal behaviour, ferrets don’t have many brain cells.”

“And you have more hair on that head, than grey mass, my love.” He was biting off, seriously vexed by his parent's reactions, but was dumbstruck by her comeback, “I might not have much grey mass, but mine at least works superiorly better than your sand grains. They must feel lonely in there.” His silence was a blessing for her irritation, “What Malfoy? Did the cat got your tongue?”

She chuckled watching Lucius and Narcissa bite their tongues and contain laughter under severe restraint. “Father, do you find my wife’s behaviour acceptable?”

“Personally, I think you should stop rubbing her feathers in the wrong way, my son. You reap what you sow.”

“She doesn’t treat me with the respect that I deserve, Father.”

“And I never will ferret. If you wanted a meek sheep, you should have married one of those empty-headed pureblood dolls before this stupid law came out, git. I’m so tired of your rubbish talk and attitude.”

“And I’m fed up with that stick you have high up in your arse.” They faced each other furiously, both searching for the next rebuttal, which was about to exit Draco’s mouth if Lucius didn’t intervene, “SON! Miss Hermione! I believe this isn’t the kind of behaviour I want in my house.”

“Then I must leave because I refuse-”

“You will not leave this Manor, Miss Hermione, and you, Draco, you will learn to stop this aggressiveness towards your wife.” The blond wizard spoke in his most authoritarian voice, “Your argument sounds like two toddlers, fighting because one doesn’t share his toy with the other. Draco, this is not how we raised you, and Miss Hermione, I expect better from an intelligent witch like you.”

“Mr. Malfoy, please accept my apologies towards you and your wife.” The words came strain, but the rebel voice followed almost immediately, “But it will be a cold day in hell before I apologise to him.”

“I don’t expect better from the Gryffindor queen, father.”

For an instant, the three Malfoy’s feared that Hermione would hit Draco, as she flexed her fist. If looks could kill, they would be digging his grave too. Only the seconds’ pointer from the clock was heard, ticking in the background, while the words floated in the air. Redrawing all the strength she possessed, Hermione chose to let it pass, closing her eyes to regain control. Instead, she straightened her frame, went poker-face and decided, “Narcissa, I’ll return later in the evening, don’t wait for me to dine.”

“Hermione, please stay, dear…”

“You know I can’t…” her voice broke, but she would rather die than let him see her tears.

Draco shouted after her, “You are not allowed to leave, that’s an order.”

“Put that order where the sun never shines, arsehole. Mr. Malfoy, Narcissa, forgive me for my language.” Shouting her destination into the floo, she left before losing the last bit of control in her possession; abandoning the others stupefied about the spoken location.

You could hear a pin drop in the seconds that followed her departure.

“Draco, I’m sorry that I have to tell you this, but you can be a real fool,” Narcissa was the first to recover from the shock, speaking accusingly to her son, “All that I have achieved on your behalf you’ve been able to destroy in less than a minute. It will surprise me dearly if you can restore your relationship with the girl at all. I never thought that I would call you a complete idiot.”

“But Mother…”

“Son, your mother spoke true words, and there’s no way that I could have condemned the girl if she had punched you. Your mother would have if it were her.”

“But Father…”

“Son, she didn’t floo to the Burrow did she?”

“No, it was a Muggle location.”

“Then we all know where she’s headed. Feel proud son, you made your wife run away to her childhood home. Think hard about why she felt compelled by such an impulsive decision.” The father lectured his son before he let his wife explode – the witch was furious at her son’s stupid reasoning.

“Here’s a new for the Malfoy Family, all on the side of a Muggle-born witch instead of defending the son of this house.” He was having a tantrum, and he knew it.

“When you stop behaving like a toddler, son, come talk to us. You will need a miracle to change the mindset of your wife now.” Lucius was not having this any longer.

“And this is not a woman that cares about trinkets and gold, so good luck with that.” Draco never heard his mother talk this vicious to him.  _ I fucked up majorly, if piss off my mother this much. _

-oOo-

A soft knock on the front door startled Hermione, “Hermione, please open the door, it’s me Narcissa.” The blond witch had practised the pronunciation of location with her husband a few times, before adventuring for this trip, making sure she would arrive where she wanted. “My dear, please, let me in. You shouldn’t be alone, right now.”

“Why do you care ‘Cissa?” a hiccup escaped against her will.

“Because I have to admit that my son is the biggest idiot on earth at this moment, and I care too much for you to see you suffer like this. Will you please-” The door of the modest house opened with a crack, and the older woman embraced the younger one in a heartwarming hug, offering solace, “I’m so sorry, Hermione. My son went too far this time, what a ferret.”

The brunette smiled through her tears, while her mother-in-law continued, “That’s how you call him right my dear? The ferret? And what else?”

Hermione chuckled, “The git,” wiping away the tears with her hand, letting a heavy breath escape her lips. “Narci-”

“First, stop calling me Narcissa or ‘Cissa. You have slithered your way into my heart, and I do care about you like a daughter. So I want you to call me mother from now on. Second, my son was a git, a ferret’ish idiot and only Merlin knows how hard I had to withhold myself and not slap him.” Grabbing the younger witch by her shoulders she drew the girl again in an embrace, leaning her own chin on the girl’s forehead, “If Lucius talked to me like that, I would be equally angry and pissed off, and hurt. Hear my son behave like that, makes me go livid.” Deep breath escapes her, a slender hand raises Hermione’s chin, “You have all the reason in the world to feel badly hurt, and I understand fully why you came here. But I don’t want you to stay here all alone, your place is with us now, inside the Manor and I want you to start considering it your home.” Her eyes darted over Hermione’s face in concern, while her thumbs dried the forgotten tears, “Come back home with me, give my son the cold shoulder until he crawls back to you and implores for your forgiveness.”

Hermione snorted, “Try nev-uary.” 

Narcissa reprimanded her, “Dear, how do you think that I wrap Lucius around my little finger? He can’t stand when I don’t talk to him, plain and simple. Take a page from my own book, and copy it. Ignore my son, and when he talks? Pretend you didn’t hear him. Keep this up for a few days; I’ll help you. You will see him go insane, and there’s when you’ll implement phase two, make him pay dearly. Remember, this is a well-established technique called ‘how to deal with Malfoy men’. Now about that payment part, I have a weakness for jewellery, and shiny things and my husband knows this. You, however, are cut from another kind of wood, and you don’t care about materialistic things, aside from books, but that will not be enough. What you need is for Draco to beg for forgiveness and starts behaving the way I know he can, he has to show you who he really is. A devoted man, just like his father.”

Hermione sat down, defeated, “Sounds brilliant, but I don’t think he’ll ever show me that side.”

Narcissa sat beside her, her hands taking Hermione’s in a hold, “He will, once you give him a chance to show you. You’ve been pushing him away; I’m not condemning, I’m just saying. Ignore him for a few days, give him the cold shoulder, forcing him to say sorry and then please, let him show you the man he is. Let me suggest, this wedding at the Weasels…”

Hermione reprimanded lightly, “Weasley’s.”

“I’m sorry, Weasley’s of course, Draco’s name-calling rubbed off on me against my will. But returning to my reasoning, the Weasley’s wedding is within a week?” Hermione nodded, “Ignore the idiot until then, he might surprise you how fast he’ll rebel against before that day.”

The blond witch rose to her feet, dragging Hermione with her, “I’ll bring Lucius into our plans, so he doesn’t rebel in Draco’s favour, out of habit. But I don’t want you to stay here, the more you dig a wedge between you, the harder it will become to find a way to peace. Will you come home with me?”

“But…”

“You can count on me. Come home, Hermione.”

Hermione whispered, “Okay.” 

-oOo-

It was six days until the Weasley ceremony, and it was day one of the operation: Drive Draco Insane.

Breakfast started with a surprise, Hermione greeted Narcissa and Lucius with a kiss on the cheek, the latter a little uneasy with the gesture, “Good morning Mother, Lucius.” A raised eyebrow from the wizard and she remediated her greeting, “Father.”

Draco watched dumbfounded, how Hermione took the chair next to his, expecting her to sit beside his mother, and she greeting his father in such a familiar way. He stuttered, “Good morning Granger.” She gave him a once-over, “Narcissa, I’m heading to the Burrow today, and I’ll suggest changing the colour settings and the switch with the bride's flower bouquets.”

“Sounds delightful, I’m curious to hear all about it tonight.”

“Yes, Hermione, even I am intrigued if you succeed in your task. Well-meant of course.”

Draco joined in, “It’s a challenging task indeed, bring some common sense into that family…”

“Hermione, I believe we forgot about your shoes.” Narcissa continued their conversation as if no one came in between.

“Damn, I almost forgot, Mother.” Draco’s eyes widened, staring at her, as she continued “What do you suggest, Mother?”

“I could accompany my two women to a nice shopping trip to Diagon Alley or further if needed. Offer my advice on the best choice, and spoil the two ladies with a nice lunch afterwards.” Lucius answered this time.

Draco choked on some eggs, “What?”

“Lucius, I’m sorry, Father, shopping with two women for shoes. It must be the most boring endeavour.”

“On the contrary, dear Hermione.” Draco took a big swig from his water glass; he could barely believe his ears,  _ his father calling Granger dear Hermione? What the hell?  _ “I love to shop with my beloved wife, spoil her the best way I know how. And if I walk down that Alley with not one but two lovely ladies at my side, it would make me a most proud man.”

“Father, are you feeling well today? Or should we call a Healer?” Not only was Draco feeling left out, but his father was also laying it too thick in his sudden change of heart.  _ I need to end this charade at once _ , thought the young wizard.

“Father,” Hermione spoke in a honey-sweet tone accompanied by an overly wide smile, “If you really insist, we could schedule our little trip for tomorrow?”

“My dear, that sounds perfect. Lucius and I will help you find the perfect pair.” Smug smile meets another in the conspiracy. The older wizard hid his own behind his cup of coffee. Draco’s angry face brought them all great fun.

Hermione was about to leave, “Father, Mother. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Dear, what would you like to eat tonight?” A young male yelp followed, much to Narcissa’s pleasure, “Oh, I love that salmon with lemon the elves prepare.”

“Excellent choice, my dear, I’ll pass it on.”

-oOo-

Left alone, Draco began giving his parents his rap, “What the hell? What do you two think you are doing? And how am I’m going to have a nice chat with my wife, she just fucking ignored me!”

“Son, your language! And two, I have no idea what you are accusing us of. We just planned a shopping trip.” Lucius watched his son’s features with his best poker-face. 

The answer came seething through his teeth, “You were sweet talking to my wife, plus Father, this change of heart towards a girl that a few weeks ago was still mentioned as a mudblood is very suspicious.”

“I have readjusted my opinion about Miss Hermione. Is that a crime according to you?”

“No, but-”

“I would appreciate if you would stop accusing me of my actions towards your wife and if you have a problem with being ignored at this very table, which you were for your information; then it is only thanks to your doing, and I have nothing to do with it.” Lucius rose to his feet, kissed his wife heatedly on her lips, “Now if you excuse me, son, I’m going to work. It seems that my calendar for tomorrow has suffered a severe change of plans.” 

“Hmphf!”

-oOo-

“Mother, let me thank you for your perfect suggestions.” A tired looking Hermione joined the Malfoy family at dinner. “Mmm, the salmon smells delicious.”

“I’ve promised you your favourite, my dear. Now tell me all about your day.”

“Yes, Granger, fill us in with the newest gossip in the Weasle house.” Draco pouted, this charade has to end.

“Mother, peace has arrived between the three brides, thanks to you. The brides’ bouquets will consist of their favourite flowers; the centrepieces will be soft in tones, pearl white and pale pink. And the tablecloths will be a combination of pearl white and pale grey to break the monotony.”

“Excellent,” Narcissa clapped in her hands content, while Lucius let a sound of approval, but Draco sneered, “Yes, Granger, I’m so delighted that those ginger heads listened to my mother’s advice.”

Hermione faced her father-in-law, “Have you been able to clear the day for tomorrow’s shopping spree, Father?”

“Am I being actively ignored?”

“Yes, Hermione, my day tomorrow belongs to my dear wife and my daughter-in-law. Would you like to travel to Paris and find the ideal pair of high heels there?”

“Paris?” Hermione choked, “I’ve never been to Paris.”

Narcissa joined the conversation, amused by her son’s pouting, “Then Paris it will be, my love, and will you join us on a journey at the Louvre, after our shopping?”

“It will be a pleasure, my love.”

Hermione yawned behind her hand, soon after the meal ended, “Mother, Father, forgive me, it was a quite exhausting day, I’ll be retreating for the night.” The multiple attempts from Draco to be heard were smothered efficiently by his own parents, much to his chagrin and everyone else’s fun. He watched her kiss his mother and father goodnight, “Don’t I get a good night, Granger?” She shrugged silently and went her way.

“Mother, I do not allow this kind of-”

“Son, stop behaving like a toddler, who has a fit for being denied candy. It’s tiring.”

“No one talks to me.”

Narcissa snapped, “What am I doing now?”

“But Grange-”

“Take my advice, apologise decently to your wife first, maybe then she’ll change her attitude.”

“Malfoy men don’t apologise.”

Lucius looked down at his son, “Son, I’m afraid that between a couple, sometimes a Malfoy man does need to kneel and beg for forgiveness.”

Draco bit off, he did not like this conversation, “I have done nothing wrong.”

“Then I’m afraid that nothing will change either. My love, will you follow me to our quarters?”

-oOo-

Hermione was forced to readjust her point-of-view concerning Lucius. This was a man that mastered the ways of making a woman feel desired and in her case, nicely treated. First, the way he doted on his wife, buying her a costly pair of Louboutins for an occasion in the future was the most adorable thing she ever watched. Second, he succeeded in paying for her own pair, “Hermione, you are not abusing the vault, this is me giving my daughter-in-law a gift. You can’t deny me this pleasure.”

Feeling tricked, she conceded, pursing her lips, but his sly smile worked disarmingly.

The tour inside the Louvre, preceded by a private guide was for Hermione a real treat. Visiting the whole museum was impossible in a day, but the sneak peek she received left her drooling for a follow-up tour, “Maybe, in time, Draco will escort you.” Lucius spoke gently while sipping a cuppa, “I mean when you both find some peace between you. He also loves this type of travelling, although he might not confess it straight away. I’m more than sure that our little trip today is eating him alive of jealousy, just because of this culture passage.”

Narcissa smirked, “He’s really reacting hilariously, I never thought our son would fret this much. Dear, our plan is working perfectly. I give him one more day before he cracks.”

He nodded, “My wife is correct, Hermione. Believe me, we the Malfoy men, have just that much of patience before we break.” 

“We will see.” Hermione still didn’t believe in miracles.

Truth is that Draco was drawing circles on the carpet from all the pacing, regret was a heavy burden inside his soul. He did realise he went too far with his behaviour and was anxious to find a way to change Hermione’s opinion over him. He wanted peace and a real shot at happiness, and no matter how much he might hate to admit, Hermione was an intelligent and attractive witch. The kind of woman that could keep him on his toes, never boring him, a woman with content and so different from those empty-headed Barbie dolls as she called them. She wasn’t a shallow person, she cared, and she gave freely. His mother had blossomed since his wedding day, even his father had a brighter spirit, despite the dark clouds hanging above his head. 

If he only knew how to turn the tables, how to make her see him as he really was. Damned, I guess I will have to apologise. But how do I get her to listen long enough to accept?

The next day turned out to be impossible for him to even attempt a conversation. She had left early in the morning to the Burrow, helping set up the venue and adding enough spells to prevent damage from weather and other issues until the big day. She returned really late in the evening, completely drained out, only saying her goodnights to his parents, ignoring his presence entirely and asking for some tea to be brought to her room.

He pondered for a few minutes, but decided to follow her, grabbing her arm before she closed the door, “Granger, can we talk? I need to say a few things to you, it won’t take long.”

She sighed, “Draco, listen, I’m tired, really busted. I crave a bath, my bed and that tea I asked for. I have no patience nor energy to deal with you and your rantings…”

“I don’t want to fight, Grang-, Hermione.” _ If she uses my given name, I need to do the same, show her my will to change _ . “I see you are really exhausted, I’m not going to press on for today. But can you give me five minutes of your time tomorrow?” He gave her his most sincere look, hoping that she would abide his request, feeling he meant no harm. “Before you leave?” She nodded, “Goodnight, Hermione.”

She whispered, “Good night, Draco.”

For the first time in a long time, he entered his room with a smile.


	6. An Apology and a Wedding

##  **Chapter 6: An apology and a wedding.**

 

The older couple sensed a difference as soon as Hermione joined their table for breakfast. The young woman wasn’t ready for a battle but was more herself, peaceful and in an enjoyable mood. She greeted her in-laws in the new fashion, and directed an indifferent greeting to her husband, “Good Morning Draco.”

“Good Morning, Hermione.”

Narcissa changed a look with her daughter-in-law but received a shake and a small curl of a smile, which made her even more curious. Her husband followed the exchanged with an enquired look, wondering exactly the same thing. 

They ate in silence, all of them afraid that a word would break this fragile cease-fire. The older couple was even more surprised when Draco escorted Hermione to a small adjacent drawing room, but both were slightly bummed when they realised their son had added a few silencing wards to have some privacy. “Should we send an elf to spy?” “My love, that girl is more than capable of dealing with our son and making him take it down a notch.” “I’m just worried.” “Relax, my love. I believe your little ignore plan worked. Now we need patience.” “I’m praying to the Merlin, that you are right.”

*In the other room*

“Hermione, look.” A shaking hand ran through his hair, “I…”

“Draco, please get on with it, I don’t have all day.” His drawl was itching her.

“Granger, this is not so easy for me.” He sneered, but regretted it instantly. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sneer, and I’m trying to say I’m sorry.” That last part came as a whisper. 

“Excuse me, can you repeat that last part?”  If he thought to get so quickly out of this, then the git is in for a ride.

“I’m sorry.” Once again a soft voice, but her raised brow forced him to repeat his words, “Granger, fuck, I said I’m sorry. I am SORRY!”

“Don’t need to shout, git.”

He felt his temper flame but refrained from acting upon it, knowing all too well that he would not have a new chance so soon, “Hermione, I said I’m sorry. I’ve been too harsh on you. I’ve had no manners, said things that I regret saying and above all I am really sorry for hurting you and making you cry.”

Her face remained unreadable to him, waiting for him to continue, which he did after a moment of silence, “Our heated discussions from lately are wearing me down. I hate to be ignored, and furthermore, I wish you could give me a chance, a real one, to try and make this marriage work.” He wanted to hold her upper arms, but didn’t insist watching her retreat from his presence, “Please, Granger, Hermione, can you accept my apologies, and give me a chance to start over?”

She never heard him speak in such a genuine way, and her walls were breaking,  _ maybe, I could lower my assumptions _ . “Here’s the thing Draco, you have hurt me. Not only this past week but for a long time. I’ve learned to despise you thanks to the way you treated me before. I can’t just flip a finger and change the way I think about you overnight. But I agree that we cannot go on like this, it’s draining me as well.” She ran a hand over her face, “But if you make an effort to stop and stop pushing my buttons, then I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and try to start over. It must come from both sides, Draco, this is not a one-sided effort.”

“I don’t think I can ask for more.”

“No, you can’t. And in return, I’m going to ask you for a favour. Let me be until the wedding, I need some peace of mind, and after that, we’ll take a step at a time. But until then, give me some room.”

He feared her answer, “Are you going to ignore me again?”

“I am, and you will accept it. For the sake of my sanity. I need space to breath again.” She grabbed the doorknob to exit but hesitated for a second, his hand on her shoulder stopped her, “Thank you Gran-, Hermione. And I really have to thank you for the friendship you have been giving my mother. It has been a while since I’ve seen her this happy, despite my behaviour of late.”

“She remains my favourite Malfoy, Draco. That hasn’t changed, not even under the charm campaign your father has launched on me.” He nodded, and she exited the room.

-oOo-

The next two days were a blessing for Narcissa. Not that their cease-fire had stopped the stabbing at each other, Draco and Hermione kept their bantering going on back and forth, but somehow, it was in a lighter version.

Her son was apparently making efforts, although sometimes he couldn’t contain himself and Hermione forgot obviously that ignoring the stabs were the best option. The witch spent these last days more at the Burrow than at the Manor, barely present during meals save the breakfast. 

It was the eve of the ceremony when a wholly spent witch joined the rest at their dinner table, “I’ll be so happy in two days. It has been so exhausting.” She was shoving her meal back and forth on her plate, tiredness prevailed over her hunger, “One very temperamental bride, an idiot of a groom and the other groom is more nervous than his own bride. Add to it, an annoying prank player and chaos is complete.”

A concerned Narcissa wondered, “Dear, explain who’s who, I have trouble following,” the dark circles under Hermione’s eyes disturbed her. 

Shaking her head to keep up with the conversation, Hermione explained, “Ginny…”

“Is a temperamental redhead. As I thought.” The annoying look from his witch told him that his comment was not appreciated.

Signing with her hand, she continued, “As he said, Ginny. Then you have the idiot, Ron…”

Snort next to her, “That’s no surprise, there…”

She cut him off, “Do you want to tell the story? Be my guest Draco.” Her patience was wearing thin, due to her level of exhaustion. He faced his plate and waited until she restarted her narrative, “Well, as I was telling,” emphasising on that last word, “The idiot can’t give a decent answer. Every question we ask is answered with a yes.” He raised his hands as if what did you expect? “Draco, Merlin give me strength, stop this stupid act. I have no energy to deal with you, damn it.” She stood up, “Mother, really I’m sorry for leaving, but I crave once more my bed. Honestly, I’m glad it’s done after tomorrow.”

Narcissa scrutinised her son first, before eyeing the witch with gleamy eyes, “If you wish, Hermione, but please feed my curiosity, who’s the other groom?”

Hermione smiled softly, “Oh, that’s Harry, but I suspect that Ginny is giving him a hard time. She wants the perfect day. The poor bloke is succumbing into a pile of nerves.” A yawn escaped her, “Sorry, I need my bed. Good night you all.”

-oOo-

It was early in the morning, when Narcissa knocked on Hermione’s door, “Do you wish my help with your hair?” The door opened seconds later, “Do you think you can tame the bush?” A bright smile adorned the young face; the tiredness replaced by a glow, her figure wrapped in a fluffy towel. 

Hermione took place on the chair in front of her commode, while Narcissa performed her magic with the help of a female elf, Winnie, who was handing pins for the up-do the matriarch had planned. “Some curls should float with the wind, but the majority is contained. Now, where’s the dress?” Hermione pointed the finger at the hanger. 

“Winnie, bring the dress please.” Carefully Narcissa helped her ease into the dress, closing the side zipper and the hidden buttons right above on her shoulder blades, holding the off shoulder part together, “Hermione, you look astonishing today. This colour is the perfect complexion for your skin; you are just glowing in it. Allow me one more detail.” She opened the box and showed a beautiful platinum pendant, with a huge teardrop shaped moonstone; taking the necklace gently out of its cushion; she closed it around Hermione’s neck, “This is a piece from the Black family, and I would like you to have it. The moonstone is known to give the owner self-confidence, to add an aura of mystery and passion. Shine bright my dear, and be confident in yourself. You are a powerful witch, and you must show it.”

Both women admired the beauty in her pink dress, “Now, let’s meet our husbands downstairs. I’m sure both are eager to see your lovely gown.” Putting her words into deeds, Narcissa lead the way smiling widely at Draco’s reaction, her son could not hide how the sight of his wife impacted him. His eyes widened, mouth slightly open, lost for words. During their 4th year, she had drawn his attention, as she came down those stairs to meet Krum, the first time he realised that Hermione was a beauty underneath her school robes. But now, the young girl had made room for a stunning goddess. He heard his father whisper, “Son, feel proud of such an elegant woman, and feel blessed that she’s yours. Use your brain and keep her for the rest of your life.”

He was still perplexed, and could not speak, only nod.

She approached him with a blush on her cheeks; his reaction had been on display for her to read, which pleased her more than she allowed herself to admit. He wore a light grey two-piece that matched perfectly with his grey eyes.

Draco extended his hand, “Hermione, you look astonishing today,” kissing her lightly on her knuckles. Offering her his arm, he headed to the Floo, “Hermione, Draco! Have fun today.” Narcissa bid them farewell, joined by an approving nod from Lucius.

-oOo-

“I didn’t expect the Burrow to be so…” It was the first time he was at the Weasley’s place, and the sight surprised him. It looked inviting, less intimidating than his Manor. 

She just commented, “Draco, your family house used to be a prison. My prison.” He couldn’t avoid giving her a slight sneer, “Still feeling that Cindrilla’s complex much lately?”

Annoyed with his answer, she put him in his place, “It’s Cinderella you know, learn the classics, ignorant.”

“Hermione please, let us not fight today. Their wedding is a happy event, don’t ruin it for them.” Cold eyes assess him from head to toe, which she huffed at his comment.

-oOo-

The minister barely finished saying, “The grooms may kiss their brides,” before the three newly married couples give each other a deep kiss while the attending audience erupts in big applause and loud cheers. Hermione was delighted to see her friends this happy, even if Ron still looks slightly uneasy around Luna. For an instant, she smiles brightly to Draco but turns away her head almost immediately; his eyes rest on her face longer than usual, scanning her bright face with a puzzled look. It hit with a pang to see her happy for once directed at him and watch her redraw it the moment she realised who stood next to her. He had to admit it hurt.  _ Will she ever smile at me this way? _

The celebration turns into a loud event where everyone has fun, laughs and shares their friendship. Draco keeps it to himself in his seat, often lonely at his table. His eyes, however, follow Hermione nonstop.

“She can be stubborn,” Harry speaks behind him while placing a glass with foaming butterbeer in front of Draco while taking a seat next to his. The blond admits, “Yeah, I’ve noticed.”

Harry kept inquiring, “Are you two getting better along…?” But received a dry comment, “Remember that iceberg I spoke of, it gives more warmth off, Potter.”

“You did hurt her back in the years…”

“Don’t you think that I regret that? My rage towards Muggles was taught, and I always believed that it was the right thing. Until I met Hermione, I had no reason to doubt it.” His tone revealed guilt and regret, forcing Harry to act as a peace maker, “Have you told her this?”

Draco sounded defeated, “If she would stay long enough next to me, and if we didn’t bicker so much, I would. But Potter, I don’t need your pity.”

“You have suffered as much as we have because of Voldemort.”

“Wow mate, you’ve been drinking too much. Are you defending me?” A loud laugh from Hermione reached them; she and Ginny mocking Georges dancing moves. Both men look up and Draco smiled slightly.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Harry, “We all have been victims. You didn’t want to kill Dumbledore; you almost were forced to do it. You need to let that go.”

“And how will that help me and make my wife accept me?”

“Small steps Malfoy, start with yourself. Forgive yourself and dare to ask for forgiveness. Plus right now I think we need to rescue our wives from too much alcohol, Malfoy. Take your lady home.”

Both men walked towards the small group, Draco snaking an arm around Hermione’s waist, “Come, Hermione, it is time to go home.”

“Oh my dear Draco, do you know that I find you the sexiest man today. Ginny, really you need to believe me, this man has the most chiseled abs I’ve ever seen,” Hermione strokes Draco’s stomach to emphasise her giggling words.

He moves her hand away, it did things to his mood that he could not deal with at this very moment, “Hermione, you’ve drank too much.”

“No, I haven’t my dear husband. I’m just telling the truth. You are a stud, I know it, and so do you, and you belong to me. But that’s my little secret, and I’m not going to repeat this out loud to you,” she keeps babbling, “I’m not going to tell you this because I want you to think that I don’t like you. I love to make you angry, just like you made me angry at school,” a new series of giggles followed. “Your arse is…” her words get muffled as Draco covers her lips with his hand. Her hand, however, patted his behind, embarrassing him in front of Harry and Ron who are smirking, “What did she say?”

“I’m taking her home; this is getting awkward, good night and once again, my sincerest congratulations to you all.” A second later, they were in his room at the manor.


	7. Seducing and the Morning After

##  **Chapter 7: Seducing and the morning after.**

 

Draco lays Hermione on the bed and starts taking her shoes off, but she demands loudly, “Draco, kiss me!” 

He shook his head, “You are drunk, Hermione.” 

“Just a little bit,” she pinches two fingers together, doubting how far they should be from each other, “But I want you to kiss me like you are on fire, I’ve been wondering how it feels to be kissed by you,” every word claimed with a dreamy wicked smile.

He tried to keep a stoic stance, “Turn around so I can open your zipper.” But she wasn’t having it, “Is this your version of seducing a woman? Open Your Zipper.” She mimics, “Nope, not happening, sir.” Her finger waved in front of his eyes, forcing him to keep all the restraint he owned in place, “Hermione please!” 

Pouting her face, she offered, “I take one piece off of you, and then you take one of mine, Draco.” But he kept his cool, “Not if you are this drunk, you’ll regret it this in the morning” To his surprise, she agrees, giggling, “Probably.” Her right hand assaulted his fly unexpectedly, “Hmm what do we have here Mr. Malfoy?” Curving her hand around his hard erection, his restraint started to show cracks,  “Hermione stop! You’ve got to stop-”

Her hands make quick work of his belt and zipper and sneak under his trunks grabbing his hard lid. Draco’s balance falters unsteady, and he tries to take her hand away but fails as she starts pumping. There’s a deep glow in her features as she faces him; his restraint melts, and he lowers down to kiss her with fire, their tongues duelling while she caresses him in a steady rhythm. He moans, “Hermione.” 

She releases him to pull his pants downs, the buttons of his shirt fly around next by lack of patience. His hands reach to the side opening finally her zip, and her dress falls at her feet with one smooth movement. “Tell me to stop Hermione, we shouldn’t do this, you will…” mumbles Draco, between their hot embraces.

“I know it, but I don’t want to,” she pouts breathlessly.

He drops frantic kisses on her lips, her throat, and collarbone while her hands cup his bum, stroke his muscled back, and his belly. Cupping her breasts gently, his thumb rubs over the pink nipple hardening. “You are beautiful Hermione.”

His arm under her knee lifts her to lay her gently down on the bed, and he accommodates himself between her legs. They both are fighting to breathe, passion taking over their control a mixture of arms and legs. His right-hand slide from her breast to her core, his thumb searches her clit and rubs it first gently and then harder, while one cautious finger moves between her folds to feel her entrance. A moan leaves her throat as he keeps a steady fingering rhythm, “Her…mione, you are so ready for me, love.”

With more restraint than he thought to possess, he positions himself at her entrance and glides softly in her; holding on for a moment to let her get used to his size. Her breath stokes and he asks concerned, “Is it okay?” She takes his bottom lip between her teeth, “Yes, Draco.”

His pace starts slowly at first but as their heartbeat rises in strength, so do his thrusts. His hands roam over her body, caressing from breast over to her tights. Hermione encircles his hips with her legs pushing him deeper inside, in this ancient dance. One of his hands shifts to her core, his thumb circled her clit with pressure to intensify her pleasure, her moans muffled by his lips as they switch between sucking her nipples and devouring her mouth.

A whirl of feels invades her, taking her breath away, “Come for me love, let it go,” his whispers in her ear heighten her pleasure. The orgasm hits her full on, she holds him tight with arms and legs as the jolts of electricity fire through her, the feeling so new, “You are so beautiful, my love, Hermione”. Her core clutches tightly around him, and he loses control coming hard in response. He leans trembling against her shoulder, breathing hard, the orgasm he just experienced, one he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Hermione beams at him with dreamy eyes, “Wow”.

“Indeed, wow,” he caresses her hair, looking down on her, but she closes her eyes with a deep sigh, falling deep in sleep. Lying down on his back, he dragged her into his embrace before closing his eyes, giving in to his exhaustion. 

-oOo-

Rays of sun wake Hermione from her deep sleep. Stretching in the bed like a kitten with a smile of fulfilment, her foot touches a hairy leg. Her mind wakes her up, hairy leg?  Turning around her circle, she finds Draco’s face still in a deep sleep. Panicked she stumbles out of bed dragging the sheet with her. Draco wakes up from the cold wind, “Oh hey, good morning, Love,” he says in a sleepy tone.

“Love? LOVE? How DARE you take advantage of me?” A pillow flies, brazing the left side of Draco’s head, while he tried to reason with her, “I tried to stop you-” ducking away from a small soldier figurine, “Hey stop throwing things at me, Granger.” Draco keeps his arms before his face dodging every flying object, “STOP it!”

“I was drunk, Malfoy!” one of her stiletto’s flew next, missing the dodging target.

“I KNOW! But can’t we talk about this like civilised people?” he approaches Hermione like a cautious tiger. Her tone rose in height, “Don’t make me laugh, civilised you … ha ha ha! Hé, don’t come closer, git,” Hermione points her wand at him, that she retrieved swiftly from the secret pocket in her dress; her face red with anger. “And put on some damn trunks on, will you? Don’t parade like that, naked,” the blush in her cheeks no longer only from anger.

Draco runs a hand through his hair desperate to stop the drama “You were drunk, I took you to my room because you couldn’t walk to yours… Stop that,” he snarled, “I was taking your shoes off because regardless of what you think I don’t hate you. And you came at me Hermione, I honestly tried to stop you, but I’m a man, with needs too. You looked so attractive and beautiful in that dress, and you were doing things that made my control go pfff,” he gestures in the air like steam escaping.

“YOU SHOULD oh grrr…” in a very girlish way Hermione growls at him, spins around and walks away slamming his door shut while shouting “I HATE YOU!”

Entering her room Hermione seats on the bed, still enveloped in the sheet she claimed from his bed. Her mind  spinning between blurred memories of her night with him and the anger she felt for him not behaving as a gentleman should. But the honesty kicks in, and with a sigh, she admits to herself the Slytherin sex god was indeed an expert in his field. The vivid image of Draco’s naked torso brought a glow to her cheeks,  _ why does he have to be so good looking for Merlin’s sake? _

-oOo-

Draco decides to go for a shower, a cold one. The sneak view of Hermione in her Eva costume was doing weird things with his body, which he couldn’t handle at this moment. Not that he could avoid the cascade of memories of the previous night: her perfume, how soft she felt under him, so responsive.  _ If she would just comply our five years could work out quite nicely, having sex with that Gryffindor was not such a burden after all. There’s more fire in that wildcat than in most Slytherin prude chicks. _

A light knock on the door wakes Draco up from his daydreams, “Yes?” 

“Son, it’s me,” he heard his mother’s voice on the other side of the door, “Can I come in?” He answered defeated, “Yes mother, please enter.”

The woman treated with care, “Son, we could hear you scream at each other from the ground floor, can you share what happened?”

“Pff… mother, I don’t…”

“Son it’s okay if you don’t want to say, but I only want you to be happy, so if I can be of help,” Draco interrupts her, “Mother I don’t get her! Yesterday I was a gentleman who carries his wife back home and puts her to bed because she had too much fun with the pimped up punch and butterbeer. But I’m just a man, and she comes at me, seduces me, we did ahum you know,” he blushes, “But then this morning she goes all volcanic on me like it’s all my fault. Damn that woman keeps drawing the blood from under my nails,” he grunts and raises his hand in the air in surrender, “I understand the crickets from her mood.”

“What is bothering you the most right now?”

“That she doesn’t give us an honest chance, we are stuck with each other for the next five years. It’s been a month of silence, sneering and bickering. I’m so tired of this shit. I am a Slytherin, and I should be treated with more respect,” he rants on forth, “Any other woman would be begging for my grace, any. And that swotty wildcat with curly hair treats me like I’m worse than garbage.” He kicks with his foot against the bedpost, revealing to his mother how desperate he felt, “I am NOT my father,” he grits between his teeth “All I want is going through this as easy as possible before we both can move on with our lives, each his path. Mother, am I asking too much?” He sought for the answer in his mother’s eyes, imploring for a solution.

“Son, have you tried to make her see the side I know? The funnyman, caring, snarky at times but never willing to hurt, just poking the fire. Have you?”

“I haven’t yet had the chance.”

“With me, she’s a woman with a heart, and we must not forget that she has nothing else but nightmares about this house thanks to my beloved sister.” Her fingers forming the parenthesis with her beloved, “Your father wasn't the most welcoming at first, and you’ve been acting wrong from the start, with all that sneering of yours.” Caressing his head she continues, “Show her that beautiful side of yourself my dear son, hopefully, that will melt the ice shield she has built to protect her from harm and it could be the start of a friendship of sorts. I like her Draco. Muggle or not she has a good heart, and I like that. She’s the kind of woman I wished for you from the moment you were born son.”

“For that to happen, she’ll have to let me in.” I’ll need a miracle for this.

“That is the kind of challenge no Malfoy should walk away from right?” Grinning she is about to leave the room. “Son tell me one thing…” 

“Yes, Mother?” 

“Was it good?” 

“You mean the sex?” he blushes. 

“Yes dear, that part right there.”

“Mom” he admits with a long sigh, “I can’t recall a better night.”

Narcissa closes the door with a content smile thinking  _ then I hope none of you thought of anti-conception spells. _


	8. Start Over.

##  **Chapter 8: Start over?**

 

A single red rose, with a note:  _ can we start over? D. _

 

She sighed, it had been more than 3 weeks after their first time, one she finally admitted, much against her will, to have surpassed her dreams of what making love should be ( _ scrap that Granger _ she told herself,  _ sex we had sex _ ). For the ninth-night in a row, she avoided him like the plague but would find a red rose with the same note on her pillow. 

Since that morning-after, she buried herself in her internship accepting all and every assignment from spell enhancement to potions creation. Any excuse was welcome to keep her brain from going back to that night and reliving it all once more, leaving her with a need she could not deny. _I HATE him, but the sex? Bloody hell, that was hot_. None of Ron’s kisses and clumsy touches had ever left her hungry for more. The image of a naked Draco was enough to turn her on. _I hate him so much, I hate him, I hate him,_ _I hate him,_ her thoughts raged inside her head, yet the little devil in her mind bit back, fighting her, _honey, try saying that again, this time convincingly_. _No, shut up. I hate him that’s final. Not. Yes. NO. Oh, bloody hell._

 

She created a new ritual, waiting until he left to his father’s company after breakfast, before joining the table and then returning late in the afternoon. Their evening meal took place now in a smooth scenery, the bickering was replaced by polite conversations, never touching any sensitive topic. And still, he left daily a rose behind, faltering none.  _ I’m not that easy, Malfoy. _

 

It was on a late Monday night that he found her in the kitchen, her head lying on an open spells book, sleeping.

 

“Hermione, wake up,” his hand shook her shoulder gently, whispering softly, “Hermione.” 

 

She barely acknowledged, still sleepy, “What? Damn, I fell asleep,” rubbing her eyes “I need to solve this mystery, and I have a deadline,” yawn.

 

“Could I be of help, Hermione? Potions used to be my favourite class.” He sat next to her on the bench shoving the book carefully away. He noticed the borders of her book, marked red on her cheek.

 

“It’s more a spell, or it could be a potion, I don’t know what’s best,” answered Hermione after a second yawn. “Hmm sorry, our department is trying to find a similar feature to the muggles epidural anaesthesia so that women can give birth without the heavy pain levels that go with it. All those old bats seem to think that women just should suck it up, it’s for the great cause,” she scolded. “For instance, I am not looking forward to feeling being ripped apart from the inside Draco, and I’m quoting your own mothers words here.” He winced.

 

“How far are you with this?” His eyes scrolled down to the page she had been reading.

 

“Honestly? Nowhere. Muggles use chemicals; I’m trying to find the herbal counter versions. Till now? Zero, nada, niente.” Her thumb and finger formed a zero. “I would like to find one before Ginny goes to labour?”

 

“Potter is going to be a dad already?” he snorted.

“Draco, please don’t,” she pleaded “I grow tired of all our animosity, I prefer our momentary peace treaty.”

 

“So do I, Hermione, I wish that you would give me a chance to start over. Hoping that you would realise that I have been forced to do all those bloody things.” A strand of hair escaped her bun, and he put it behind her ear, his grey eyes roaming her sleepy face, which he found adorable. “I…” looking her straight in the eye, he forgot his words. Her brown eyes still sleep-drunk stared back at him without hate, a first. He forgot to breathe as his eyes went from her eyes to her full lips and back, “Hermione I…”

 

In blurry move Hermione closes his mouth with hers, the tip of her tongue demanding entrance, her hands grabbing his neck while she drew closer to him. His hands grabbed her bum pulling her fully over onto his lap, his hardness the evidence how much her actions turned him on, “Hermione … do …you … know … what … you … are … doing?” His whispered words interrupted by the continuous assault of her lips. “Shut up Malfoy, I can’t think, I can’t focus, I don’t do anything else other than fantasize about that night. Your voice is that demon in my head fighting me against every barrier I try to pull up.”

 

“Won’t you regret it in the morning again?” He pulls her face away, to look straight at her, admiring her cheeks flushed heatedly, and her eyes linger on his mouth while her lips are slightly swollen from all their passionate kissing.

 

She answered him mumbling, “Why do you talk so much? I need to know if that night was my imagination or if it’s real. I need you, Draco.” 

 

“Fuck Hermione, you …” grabbing her, he apparated them to his bedroom, laying her not so gently on the bed. Her hands flew over his shirt pulling both sides open, “Hermione, love, I was fond of this shirt,” he chuckled, but his laugh got stuck in his throat. Her hands at this belt, opening the fly and grabbing his hard lid, her pumping stalled by his movements to remove her blouse and bra. He worshipped her, husky, “You are so beautiful, love”.

 

She shoved him on his back, straddling his legs after removing his trunks. Caressing his member she went down on him, first licking the head and the small fluid drop and then taking him fully in the mouth till she couldn’t anymore.  Draco growled, the sensations overpowering him. His hand grabbing some of her hair gently and shoving it to the side so he could enjoy the view. “Yes baby, hmm fuck.”

 

One of her hands searches her core, but he holds it back, “That’s my job, love.” Hermione smirks her voice sending vibrations to his lid. He pulls her up and changes places, “You’ve got to stop honey, I can’t hold it much longer. It’s my turn to check if everything down there is wet enough.” Her hips buck when he pinches her clit between two fingers, rubbing it before lowering down to her core. “So juicy, you taste musky just how I love it,” his fingers stroked her inside while his thumb pressed her clit. 

Her moans come deep, her legs restless, toes curling as he applies more and more pressure in both movements, “Come for me love, let it go.” A deep moan leaves her mouth, her hips raised while she rides the intense waterfall of feels, her orgasm hot as a volcano. “Oh…” escaped from her as Draco swiftly entered her, her core still clenching in the aftermath, “Round two love, I want you to squeeze me inside your inner walls.” His rhythm is fast and deep, his mouth on her nipples switching between sucking and biting, instigated by her moans. Her legs around him pull him deeper, heels digging in his buttocks, her hands roaming over his torso.

 

With a naughty look in her eyes, her right-hand slid between them to stroke herself and touch him while he enters her, huskily, “I want to taste myself.” She licks one of her fingers, staring into his eyes, causing his lid to twitch in response, and him to growl, “Do that again love … oh fuck.” 

 

Replacing her hand with his pressuring thumb against her clit, he commands her, “I want you to come once more, Hermione.” 

“Yes Draco, don’t … stop,” she pleads, and as he pinched her clit she lets it go, her moans smothered in his collarbone. With two powerful thrusts his explosion follows hers, his head slammed back, feeling her squeezing him becomes too much for him to bear, “oh fuck… oh fuck…bloody Merlin.”

 

Sweaty he looks down on her as she looks up to him like a satisfied cat “’Hermione I could get used to this.” 

 

“What’s that?” 

 

“You underneath me smiling with the bliss of pleasure,” she chuckled at his words before she murmured, “Don’t worry, I won’t throw things at you I promise.”

 

He moves his weight away from her, turning her with him, and grasps his throat, “Can’t we please put our old grudges aside and try to make this work? We’ve just proved to each other that sex is not a burden,” his hand caressing her hair, her bun fully loose, “Please, Hermione.”

 

“Do you promise me to give this kind of pleasure every time?” 

 

_ Man, her face is so cute _ , he thought, “Do you want a pinky promise Hermione?” she laughed and waves with a corner of the bedsheet. “Okay, I surrender, white flag here!!!”

She moved to leave out of his bed, but he stops her, “Stay.” Hermione got back in, cuddling with him and he covered her, kissing her deeply before lying on his back with a sigh.  _ Finally, peace _ is his last thought before he gave in to the pull of sleep.


	9. Peace and Dark Clouds

##  **Chapter 9: Peace and dark clouds.**

 

The meal rituals changed again, this time much to Narcissa’s delight. Slowly but steady, Draco and Hermione found themselves in the middle. They came together at the table, he shoving the chair for her and helping her to coffee, serving it as she usually took – surprising Hermione the most, she had no idea he paid attention to such trivial details. They spoke now gently to each other, going through the plans for the day or in the evening, summarising their workday.

The blond witch smiled now more often, softly behind her cup, at the adorable sight the two formed, his platinum blond hair shipshape against her untamable bush of brown curls. Saying that Draco didn’t stop bickering would be a lie, the young wizard kept poking the bear to rile his wife up, but it was the tone that changed. It was now teasing, to draw her out, which she fell for  every time.

“Draco, what do you think you are doing?” Hermione caught him stealing a chunk of buttered toast out her plate. Looking more innocent than a saint, he denied any participation, “Granger, you’re imagining things. Do you need a healer?” Biting on the stolen piece straight in her face with a grin.

She huffed, “Malfoy, if that’s the case…” gripping after his cuppa, she sipped and winces, “Damn, is it tea with sugar or sugar with tea?”

Lucius offered, “I ask myself that often, Hermione,” upon which Narcissa smirks. The brunette rose to her feet, “I have to go, see you all later?” She pecked Draco on his lips and kissed Lucius and Narcissa on the cheek. Her exit got interrupted, “Oh Granger, your toast needed some more butter!” Draco stuck his tongue out, from where he sat, her face flushing with the promise of payback.

“Father,” he sought advice, “what would you give to a woman that doesn't find trinkets important?” Lucius pondered, curious, “This change of hearts between you two is something you think is steady?”

“Well…if it was a pure blooded witch, she would be expecting to be pampered. Truth is I would like to give her a gift,” his shoulders rose and fell with his deep sight, Narcissa following the conversation closely between father and son, “We haven’t followed the traditional pattern of dating before the wedding, and I wish to make it up for the lost occasion.”

“Son, if this was the traditional path, then, believe me, you should have by now assaulted the vaults to pamper your wife. But this has been all but traditional, and don’t take me wrong, but your wife is not the conventional kind of wife neither, drilled by her brethren into the ordinary habits of the perfect pureblood spouse.” Lucius drew slightly back, after the dark glares from both wife and son, “I’m just stating the truth, not bashing on her. Luckily for you son, she’s a woman with agency and not a money sucking piranha.” Swallowing openly, he shied away from Narcissa, “Dear, I’m not speaking about you. I’m talking in general, think of the Greengrass women for instance.” He heard her murmur, “Saved by the bell.”

“Father, will you please get to the point? What do you offer a woman that does not care about shiny stuff?”

“Allow me to intervene, from a female point-of-view son.” Lucius was still not off-the-hook, in her mind, “What do you give your wife? Easy, you dwell all the shops known to you, until you bounce on that one specific gift, that translates precisely what you feel, keeping in mind what a woman she is. She does enjoy jewellery but not the exuberating type, so don’t make a mistake to buy the biggest diamond you find. Elegance without showing off. She doesn’t want to be on display, shining brightly from far away, but likes to feel classy. That is your wife. I’m more than confident you will find the perfect present if you let your feelings speak.”

“Your mother gave you the perfect answer son.”

“Sounds more like you are avoiding the wrath, Father.”

“That too.”

-oOo-

That evening, he was enjoying a relaxing shower when he yelped, frozen. “Oops, water suddenly ice cold, dear husband? Serves you right.” Her wide grin was malicious, her hand on her bosom, “I feel so sorry for you. And honey,” wiggle with her eyebrows, “You still have some shampoo on your hair.”

“Woman, I’ll make you pay.”

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand, walking out of the ensuite wiggling her hips, “All empty threats. I’m not scared of a blond ferret, nope.” Seconds later, she was tackled, “We share all we have, remember? Our wedding vows, my dear spouse. You promised to care for me, so you share with me in the anguish.” He carried her under the cold flux of water, while she trashed to cut herself loose, “Let me go, git. Shit, this is cold. And I still have my clothes on!!!!” Her screams were muted in a hot kiss.

But their joy could only temporarily shove the dark clouds away.

Loud noises of breaking glass sound came from Draco’s room, the next morning. The last thump even made the window in her room vibrate -  she used it now as her dressing room. Alarmed by the violence in the quarters next to her, Hermione decided to stick her head through his door. She’s shocked to see the aggressive look on his face mixed with something she doesn’t recognise, “Draco what’s going on?”

“Leave me alone mudbl-” 

Hermione approached him carefully, hands up and let one rest on his chest, “Draco this is not you, not anymore. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He pointed his wand at a box sitting on the commode and sent it flying against the wall. “Why do you care? I don’t need your pity,” his answer desperate. 

“Draco, look at me”. Laying her hands gently on his cheeks she forced him to look down at her and noticed his red eyes, from the tears he was trying to withhold. It worried her deeply, “Draco what’s wrong?” 

Trembling he breathed out, griped her wrists softly to release her hold on him. His eyes, however, didn’t let go of hers; searching for the comfort he needed, despaired for solace, “We received an owl today, setting the date of my father’s hearing at the Ministry. But the lawyers warned us to prepare for the worst outcome. My father’s involvement in the battle is indisputable, and the Ministry wants to set an example. The odds are big that he will be punished with the highest penalty possible: the kiss.”

“Draco I’m…”

Enraged he responded, “Don’t you dare feel sorry for his sorry arse, don’t lie to me! Not now Hermione. I feel no pity, he brought it all on himself, he had to side with that monstrosity, thinking that it would bring him more power.” Eyes spitfire of anger, “He had it all already, people respected and bowed to the name Malfoy! But noooo, it wasn’t enough for the king,” his hands are balled into fists. “He destroyed it all and didn’t think for one second of us, my mother nor me. He and Voldefucker forced me to kill Dumbledore. I couldn’t Hermione, I couldn’t…” Shaken he lost his balance and fell to the ground. Hermione kneeled with him and held onto him, his anguished tone cutting through her heart.

She knew Draco hadn’t been the one to commit that last cruel act. She didn’t even blame Snape for it, Dumbledore made him vow to deliver the ultimate killing blast, to save Draco’s soul from eternal doom. Dumbledore had seen through that tomacho behaviour, recognising the warm influence of Narcissa. Draco was a bit of a bully but not an evil mind.

Seeing Draco this distraught was heartbreaking. Though she didn’t forget the ugliness in their early years at Hogwarts, or how he behaved in their first weeks of marriage, she saw his soft side now. In the past two and half months, their nights filled with passionate sex, always tender in the end, both falling asleep curled around each other. The nightmares Draco had during their first few nights together had scared her; she didn’t expect him to thrash on the bed shouting “Stop, don’t make me do it!” only to calm down when she finally was able to wrap her arms around his body. With time, her embrace turned out to be the ultimate weapon against those nightmares, her presence soothing the tormented soul.

They had now a friendship of sorts with nightly benefits. And Draco charmed Hermione with his changed behaviour: the occasional rose on the bed of her dressing room, her lunch bag containing her favourite sandwich and always something sweet, often a bar of chocolate. Or how they worked well together surprised her, he was really focused on helping her find the solution for her sedative potion. The way he made love to her, never did it end without her finding ultimate pleasure, memories that often would interrupt her train of thoughts during her work, making her blush in front of her colleagues for no apparent reason. I’m becoming addicted to this pampering, she thought to herself frequently.

But right now all she wanted was to ease his pain, her heart filled with sorrow and empathy. Lifting his face to hers she asked softly, “Draco, when will it be?”

“Six months from now,” he spoke tormented, running a trembling hand through his hair, “I don’t care about him Hermione, he can go to hell or purgatory or whatever Muggles call it. It’s my mother I’m so worried about. My mother doesn’t show it, but she’s on the verge of breaking Hermione, this is wearing off on her, and I can barely handle it. She always implored him to stop, begged him to leave it be, to walk away…”

“Draco we will find a way, you and me together. I love your mother. She’s not like mine, all cuddles and kisses but she has a warm heart. And she loves you more than her own life. You are not alone Draco because I’m here for you.” Her fingers were stroking his hair, her voice soft and soothing.

“I can’t ask this from you,” touching her forehead with his, he whispered, “I don’t deserve you.”

“You are not asking it. I’m offering. Your mother was the one who made me feel welcome in this house in the first place.”

“I’m sorry Hermione, I’m so sorry for having been a jerk to you. I hope you can forgive me someday. Until I met you, hating on Muggles felt right, I didn’t know better. But you forced me to change my mind, Hermione, and it turns out I was so wrong.” His hand caressed her cheek, his thumb tracing the shape of her lips. Grabbing her chin, he closed in and kissed her softly, “Forgive me.”

Wrapping him closer in her arms, she nudges him to lay head on her shoulder. “It’s okay Draco. You are not alone.”


	10. When it All Began to Change

##  **Chapter 10: When it all began to change.**

 

Following Draco’s breakdown all began to change. The understanding between Lucius and Hermione deteriorated fast, gone was his friendly stance, showing true interest in her day-by-day at work. She couldn't even recall the last time he called her daughter-in-law. It simply didn’t matter to him anymore. The wizard distanced himself more and more, not only from Hermione but also from Draco and Narcissa, becoming absent during the meals, dismissive when Narcissa suggested any activities. The trial date was still far away, but it was like the sword of Damocles, hanging above their heads.

And precisely as Draco predicted, the joy in Narcissa’s eyes began to fade, despite the pleasure she felt, watching her son finally find his peace with Hermione. Narcissa declined all Hermione’s suggestions, wherever it was for a shopping trip or simple enjoy tea time at Diagon Alley, always coming up with weak excuses to refuse. Instead the woman shrank by the umpteenth snarl from Lucius, at the rare times he spoke. 

When he did speak, it was to fire accusations, blaming all but himself for the consequences of his choices during the war. Unsurprisingly, Hermione became the person comforting mother and son, Narcissa often Lucius’ favourite punching target, “I should never have married you, weak bitch; and you son, you are a disgrace for the Malfoy name. If I’m going down, I’m dragging all and every single one of you with me.”  

“And why is that? I’ve never signed willingly to his order. I never wanted this bloody thing on my arm, Father.”

“You’ve ruined our family, Lucius!”

“If the Dark Lord would have won, you two would now be thanking me for sidelining with him. Ungrateful traitors.”

“You sidelined with the enemy, Father. And against what? Against other human beings who have the right to live like us? Look at my wife, Father. Your Voldefucker-Lord decided that she had no place in our world!” Draco shouted his lungs out, his voice in the end hoarse.

“You deserve a standing ovation, my son. You are now actively standing up for your wife, congratulations on growing up, spoiled brat.” The sarcasm cut like a sharp knife. 

But hell broke loose once more, this time a few days later after the departure of the family lawyer, which turned into one of their most heated arguments.

“Don’t you dare to talk to me like that, you failed piece of a woman!” The sharp words barely left Lucius’ lips, before he felt the tip of Draco’s wand at his throat, “Don’t you dare to speak to my mother like that!”

“Or else my dear Mudblood-loving son?” Lucius retorted, filled with hate.

Enraged Draco replied his father wand drawn, “My wife is thousand times better than you, I won’t tolerate you offending her.” 

Lucius drew some steps back but turned to Hermione, growling in a hideous tone: “One day Mudblood, one day I’ll have your skin if only to teach my treacherous son a lesson he will not forget.” And he was gone.

A silence fell, three of them too shocked by the violent words. The tension in the house rose the past weeks severely. Narcissa barely ate; the house elves were spooked in the house doing their tasks but disappearing faster than light to avoid the massive dark energy around the living quarters. 

Hermione felt much more exhausted than usual, frozen into place, pale. Draco approached Hermione worried “Hermione are you okay?” his frantic hands running over her hair, face and arms searching for a hidden wound, fearing some wordless spell from his father.

“I’m fine, just tired Draco. We should check on your mother. She needs us.”

A visibly distraught Narcissa wrapped her arms around Hermione searching for solace, “How stupid was I, falling in love with a man like that? Oh, Draco...” She extended a weak arm to include Draco in their midst. Tears running down all their faces, the tension wearing them off. 

“Mum, it’s not your fault, please don’t…” Draco held on tight to both his women, stroking his mother’s hair, placing a kiss on his mom’s head.

“I… don’t… feel… so…” Hermione tries to cut herself loose from their embrace, but stumbled and everything went dark.


	11. Blue Light.

##  **Chapter 11: Blue light.**

 

“Hermione love wake up!” The sound of Draco’s voice sounded distant in her head. “Hermione, I need you to wake up, love.” Hermione lifted her head slightly but lets it fall again on the pillow, the headache increasing in pain from the movement, “What happened?” Looking around her, she recognised her bedroom.

“You fainted on me Hermione, and I’m waiting for a healer to have you checked.”

“I don’t need a healer Draco, just give me a moment, it this must be a one time thing. The stress from the past few weeks is wearing us all down,” her right hand caressing his face trying to ease the wrinkle on his forehead.

“Still you’ll do this for me, please. To ease my worry, I’ve never seen you so pale.” He adjusted the bed sheet over Hermione before bowing to kiss her lightly on the lips.

“Draco, the healer is here.” Narcissa’s voice came through the other side of the door. “Let him in mother!”

An older woman clothed in white doctors robes enters the room “Hello Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, my name is Samantha. Care to tell me what happened?” Narcissa closed the door softly behind her offering them some privacy.

“Nothing serious,” answered Hermione while Draco said, “She fainted on me about an hour ago.”

“Let us take a look shall we?” Replied the healer with a faint smile on her face. “Okay, blood pressure is a bit low… now the iron levels…” she took a needle to draw a few drops of blood from Hermione’s thumb, “I’m definitely prescribing you some iron replenishing potions, your levels seem low. Your heart rate is perfect. Are you feeling nauseous lately Mrs. Malfoy?” 

“No madam, just a bit shaky and more tired than usual but the last few weeks have been stressful for all of us.” Hermione looked for support at Draco who was following every movement from the healer.

“Mrs. Malfoy, please call me Samantha, madam that’s for my mother,” she chuckled, “Hmm, let me try just one last spell…” frowning she murmured a spell while circling her wand right above Hermione’s stomach. “There you are, the culprit for your bad disposition,” a warm yellow light glowed on Hermione’s belly.  “Do you remember when it was your last bleeding?”

“I ahum, I don’t quite ahum… I need to look in my journal for the exact date.” Hermione babbled from surprise, connecting the dots. Samantha announced with a soft smile, “ Mrs. Malfoy you are pregnant. I would like try something, but for that, I need to raise your blouse,” gently she pulls the garment away, unbarring Hermione’s abdomen. Murmuring again she makes a misty image appear right above the belly, “Hmm, let me just measure a thing or two... hmm yes that’s good…”

Draco approached the bed, aiming for one of Hermione’s hands, holding it tight in his while he watched the shape of a little nugget. He’s silent, afraid that speaking would turn this all into a dream. 

Samantha announced, “Okay Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy you are expecting a baby, and according to my measurements you are 12 weeks far.”  

“12 weeks?” muttered Draco, stupefied.

“Yes Mr. Malfoy, concerning pregnancy duration we start counting from the last day of a woman’s period. I guess the baby was conceived about ten weeks ago. You just crossed the first trimester, and clearly, everything is developing fine according to plan.”

Draco nodded absently, while he keeps staring at his baby. Hermione is silently weeping, a hand covering her mouth, she still could not believe it, it sounded surreal at this moment. “Would you like to know if it’s a boy or a girl?” “Yes.” They answered simultaneously. A few circles above the belly and a blue light shined right above the baby’s location, “Congratulations you are going to have a little boy!”

“A son…” Draco shuts his eyes while a tear slides down his cheek, his voice a quiet murmuring. “I’m going to be a father? I’m having a son?” He keeps asking still incredulous. With a tender smile he looks down on Hermione, “Love, we’re having a son”. He kissed her tenderly and caressed her face before he rested a hand cautiously on her belly. “How can I thank you, Hermione?”

Samantha coughs discreetly, “I’ll let you be so you can enjoy this little miracle alone, I’ll leave a prescription for the iron, vitamins and some extra supplements on my way out. Please make an appointment with me four weeks from now. Goodbye Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.”

“Thank you, Samantha” Hermione rasped her voice, without shifting her eyes from Draco’s face, “I had no idea Draco, the tiredness and the dizziness I blamed it all on the stress around your father and my job. I lost count of the last day I had my period, I…”

“It doesn’t matter love. What matters is that you are healthy and happy, both of you.” Cradling her face in his both hands he looks deep in her eyes “I promise you that I’ll be here for you every step of the way, I lo…” He kissed her tenderly again but gets interrupted by a light knock on the door. Narcissa entered the room before Draco could say a thing and asked frightened, “What did the healer say Draco? It’s nothing serious I hope?”

Draco smiled, “No mother, please don’t worry. The only thing you need to decide is how you wish to be called: Granny, grandmother, nana ..?”

“What!” Narcissa exclaims, pressing a hand on her chest, “Oh my Merlin, are we? I mean are you? Am I…”

Hermione smiled, she never saw Narcissa this shaken, “Yes Narcissa, we are pregnant of a little Draco.” The older woman gasped and tears fell down openly, “Thank you, Merlin, such a miracle is what I needed. Oh my god!” Hermione chuckled with the muggle-ish expression.

Light still found a way into their bruised hearts.


	12. Caveman.

##  **Chapter 12: Caveman**

 

After a week of pampering, naps and vitamin potions, Hermione got up from bed earlier than Draco, “Where are you going, love?”

“I’m going to take a shower and get ready for work,” she explained, making a detour to her dressing room for some clothes, sensing Draco following her only in his trunks, “What do you mean going to work?” he inquired.

“What do you mean by what do you mean? I’m going to work, Draco. Two weeks have passed since I showed my face at the lab, if I continue like this I’ll lose my internship. I can’t afford to ask for more time off, first for your mother and now because of our nugget.” She didn’t understand his problem.

“I don’t want you to go to work, and you don’t need the money. I can afford us both. Malfoy women don’t have jobs.”

“Come again?” Her voice is rising a tone or two, disbelief mixed with flaring anger, “You. Don’t. Want. Me. To. Go. To. Work???” Her finger punching him in the chest at each word, “Fine your opinion is noted, judged and found rubbish. Why do I have to give up my career to become a housewife?” Both arms raised halfway in a questioning move.

“Because you are pregnant!” Draco became livid because she was fighting him, “I don’t want you to go to work, and you will obey my will!”

“I’m pregnant, not disabled! And I do not live in the Middle Ages where women have to knit, cook and satisfy every need from their husbands.” Turning around fuming she shut the door of the bathroom, adding a Colloportus locking spell to prevent him from entering.

-oOo-

Narcissa was already sitting at the breakfast table smiling dreamily when Hermione joined her fuming, “Your son Narcissa…. One day I’ll….” The cup with tea got put back on the saucer with more force than necessary, and Narcissa flinched fearing one of the two to be cracked.  “My dear, what did my son do?” She tried to avoid an amused tone showing through her voice, 

“Your son just went man cave on me. You will not go to work because I say so!” Mimicking Draco’s voice, “I’m a grown woman, I love my work and being pregnant doesn’t mean that I can’t perform my job. Now Mr Caveman dictated that I have to oblige to his will. I’ll give him his obliged right under his arse!” Shocked by the use of her language she apologised sheepishly, “Pardon my English, Mother.”

Draco freshly showered, his hair still humid, looked furious at Hermione before he kissed his mother’s cheek, “Mother, tell her, that her fragile condition means she has to stay at home. It’s not healthy for the baby…”

“Says who exactly? The latest Dracopedia edition?” retorted Hermione, “Mother, you’ll have to excuse me I’ll be late for work…” rising from her chair.

“Hermione please, you need to eat a decent breakfast.” Narcissa pleaded to her holding a wrist before addressing her son, “Draco she’s right. Having a baby doesn’t mean you can’t do anything else than rest, eat and sleep. I’m fully confident that Hermione will not do anything that could endanger her or the baby. Right, Hermione?” A pouted yes sounded from her right side, “See my dear? She loves this baby as much as you do, now be a good boy and cooperate. Have lunch together, perhaps? This way you ensure yourself that she’s eating healthy and all…” Looking at both of them with a questioning look, she hid an amused smile, watching their angry faces.

“I guess I can do lunch, Mother.” Both grumbling. “Lunch is fine with me.” 

Hiding her mouth behind a hand, Narcissa wondered if both saw what was so evident to her. Hermione gave her son a run for his money, but no other woman fit him so perfectly as she did.

Hermione finally subdued and returned to her seat to finish her breakfast which after she headed to the hearth while placing a tender kiss on the top of Narcissa’s head. She couldn’t avoid from glaring at Draco and murmuring caveman between her lips the frustrating argument still playing in her head, as she departed to work.

It was past noon when Draco entered her office and sat at the corner of her desk watching his confused wife looking around in search of something. “Hey, Hermione.”

Distracted she raised a hand “Hi!” Fumbling through her papers and books searching again for her quill, “Where’s that bloody thing now?”

“What are you looking for?”

“My quill Draco, you know that thing you write with. It keeps disappearing on me, and my deadline is approaching, arghh!” desperate she pulls on a bunch of hair.

“You mean this one?” shaking her quill in his hand, his head slightly to the right inquiring.

“Yes,” she snatched it from his hand and returned to her seat, sending him a grin.

“Hermione it’s twelve-thirty, it’s time for lunch,” he remarked with his arms crossed at his chest,

Hermione whined, “Not now, I need to finish…” 

“I understand, but you promised mother you would take care of yourself and skipping lunch doesn’t fit that promise.”

“Draco they will skin me if I don’t finish this report on time about a potion I suggested, and then I have to head to the cauldrons to experiment on another one, and then…” she just went on rambling.

He stopped her with a kiss, “Hermione, let us go for lunch at that Italian café you love to go to, have a nice pastrami sandwich with a chocolate milkshake. Half an hour, an hour maximum. When we return, I’ll help you with that report or whatever you like. But you need to give me a break here, not eating is giving me the creeps.” A thumb caressing her cheek “What do you say? Pastrami, milkshake…”

“With cream on the top? And chocolate sprinkles? And a chocolate chip cookie?” Hermione flashed her tongue over her lips like she already tasted it.

Chuckling softly, he grabbed her wrist, “Whatever my girl and her heart desires,” apparating them away.

-oOo-

“Hmmm, this tastes like heaven” a trail of delicious mayo was running through Hermione’s chin. Draco took a napkin and cleaned it away still mesmerised by the happy look on her face. These were the moments that made him feel happy, wondering if the wizards who matched them together were seers. All his previous ventures, Pansy, Astoria or the others whose name he forgot, never made him enjoy life the way Hermione did with her positive energy. She gave but never required in return. His mother sought her company, attracted by Hermione’s genuine heart.

He remembered how his father described Muggles as pollution to their world, to be exterminated. Shaking his head nearly invisibly, he concluded that his father couldn’t be more wrong. Hermione didn’t pollute, she was a blessing, and their son would inherit her magical gift. If he was honest, he wasn’t sure that filing for divorce was an option he still considered viable. Somehow the thought of a life without Hermione didn’t feel as a life at all.

“It tastes okay,” he loved to tease her

She barely believed her ears, “Okay? Just okay? C’mon Draco this is heaven.”

Keeping his stance, he insisted, “And what do you call the cookie then?”

“Heaven to the second” she laughed, admitting, “Thank you for hijacking me from the office, I will need an alarm to keep track of time. Not eating is not healthy, you were right,” although her eyes sent him a wicked glare, “However Mr. Malfoy don’t get used to me often saying that you were the right one, no sir!” her finger waving a no in front of his nose. 

Catching her finger with his teeth, he bit lightly, “Hmm we’ll see about that Mrs. Malfoy, I love you.”


	13. Big Brothers Become Uncles.

##  **Chapter 13: Big brothers become uncles.**

 

Hermione’s head was still spinning after today’s lunch.  _ I love you _ he said. On a casual tone, like it was something he said every day for the past few months. Frozen for a minute, she decided to nod with a smile and keep eating her sandwich on autopilot. She didn’t pay attention to the taste, nor the people surrounding them.  _ I love you _ .

Draco didn’t press though, Hermione couldn’t say if it was because she didn’t say it in return or because he felt he blurted out, not thinking straight. They kept chit chatting about safe subjects: the potions she was working on, the newest gossip she heard that morning. Incoherent answers came through her mouth at random moments because she couldn’t stop thinking: do I love him too?

Draco brought her back to her office and insisted on helping her with the report, but she shooed him away, needing some me-time to think. Staring into the distance, she allowed her thoughts to roam free, building a pro and con list around the subject: do I love Draco?

_ He’s a former Death Eater, he’s called me mudblood countless times, was a first-class bully, always trying to beat her at every subject. Not that he had much success -she chuckled - his caveman manners this morning were off the chart. He thinks pastrami is just okay – which it’s not, its heavenly good, _ her voice in her mind still scolding at the thought.  _ On the other hand, he brought me roses, he defends me against his father and cares deeply for his mother, he is so happy with the baby, worries about me and apologised!!! He’s more than good in bed, _ her train of thoughts brought a deep blush on her face.  _ Could I go back to sleep alone in my bed? Can I return to a life without that irritating man who’s gorgeous like hell? Do I regret us? No, no, no. Is this love? Do I love him? _

A knock on her door made her shriek and brought her back from her debate, Harry’s head peeking behind the door. “How’s my favourite Hermione doing?”

“Your favourite Hermione? Harry, you only know one: me!” she laughed.

Founding herself engulfed by a bear hug she felt Harry kiss her on her head. “And how is married life going at the Malfoy Manor?” he asked, “Are you two getting along? We haven’t spoken quite a while, a fact that’s for a great deal my fault with Ginny being pregs and so, but tell me how are you two doing?” Sinking in the chair in front of her desk, he waited for her answer, curious. Hermione sits too, sighing pretty loud, “Oh Harry, what can I say? This morning we fought because I wanted to come to work, but he decided to be Mr. Dictator and impose his will not to let me come: Malfoy women don’t work  blah blah blah…”

“Why in hell would he say something like that, ‘Mione?” Harry’s brows frowned.

“Because he’s old fashion and thinks pregnant women shouldn’t work…”

In a flash, Harry scoops her from her seat by her two arms and gives her another bear hug, “Are you having a baby Hermione? Am I going to be Uncle Harry? Jesus, how cool is this! How far are you?”

“13 weeks and a bit…” she laughed, she missed Harry’s enthusiasm.

“Do you know how cool this is ‘Mione? Ginny has… I mean she’s 13 weeks too,” widely grinning Harry went on “Is everything okay? Morning sickness? Weird desires? Ginny demands a pint of cookie dough ice cream every day. I scoop now three large spoons in a cup otherwise she’ll put on too much weight haha…” They both start with a huge laugh, but soon he faces her seriously, “ ’Mione tell me honestly, how are and Draco doing? Does he treat you well?” He acted like a real big brother.

“He’s changed, Harry. He cares, watches over me, defended me when Lucius was violent…”

“What happened?” Harry’s stance more apprehensive now, worried about Hermione’s last words.

“The trial is coming up; I don’t know the date by heart. Lucius has gotten very aggressive the past few weeks, mostly directed at Narcissa and Draco, who he considers being a failure of a man for cowering and not sidelining with the Death Eaters. You and I know better, Harry, we both know that Draco was forced into becoming one; it wasn’t out of free will. The threat to his mother’s life made him do whatever Voldemort demanded from him.” Her voice compassioned as she continued, “It has been so awful, and last week it got nasty, Lucius went to far almost driving Draco almost to the point of doing an unforgivable. I don’t think I have ever seen Draco that angry. The bully we knew was a mask, underneath there’s a man that cares, loves, worries, makes me laugh…”

“Hermione I’m listening to a woman that loves her husband,” Harry whispered, touched by Hermione’s relay.

Looking straight into those familiar brown eyes Hermione faltered, “I’m afraid…”

“Of what ‘Mione? Draco is not Ron. Don’t be afraid of loving one man because the other one has been such a fool to let you go,” he observed, “Answer me honestly: can you say at this very point that you will file for divorce at the end of these mandatory five years?” 

“I don’t want to let him go, Harry,” she pleaded tears forming in her eyes, “He needs me as much as I need him.”

“Okay enough with the sentimental.” Hugging her tightly, shoving some curls out her face behind her ear, he suggested, “I’ve got an idea. Let us go on a double date, you me my girl and your guy. It’s time that I get to meet this new Draco. I’ve been too long M.I.A. in your life; I’ve missed you. Now give Uncle Harry another hug Miss, I love you, and I’ll always have your back you know that right, miss curly hair?”

Harry hugged her again big brother fashion-wise, at the moment Draco entered her office: “Potter, would you mind taking your paws out of my wife?”

“Hey Malfoy, I’m just congratulating your wife with the new addition to the family,” letting Hermione go, Harry extended a hand to Draco who hesitated, but accepted the gesture, “The family is getting bigger man, my wife is expecting too, can you imagine us having our siblings together?”

Shaking his head Draco retorted, “Yes, wow, wonderful, my lifetimes’ dream: become a father simultaneously with you, Potter,” the three of them laughing from Draco’s demeanour. 

“I’ll send you an owl, Hermione, to set up a date. And, Malfoy, treat this woman as she deserves! See you later!” Harry left the couple alone.

“I still don’t like to see the golden boy with his hands on you. I don’t think I’ll ever like it,” shaking his head with a grin, “I came to ask you if you were not too tired to attend a Muggle musical with me, I’ve got golden seats for tonight’s Aladdin performance.”

Surprised Hermione drew near Draco “You want to watch a Muggle musical all of a sudden?”

He apologised while looking down at his feet, “To say I’m sorry for this morning. I lost my temper because I… well here’s the deal I worry about you, about our baby, I miss you and I…” His last words muffled a soft kiss.

“I love you too, Draco.”

Holding his breath, he cupped her face with his hands drawing the few strings of hair away from it, his eyes running over her face in search of a sign this was a play of his mind “You love me?”

“I love the man that gave me this little nugget inside of me, yes,” she smiled, “Now tell me aside of Aladdin what else did you have in mind?”

“You love me.” Catching her mouth in an intense kiss, putting into that kiss all the emotions she made him feel with her words. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered back.

With a serious tone in her voice, Hermione remarked, “Do me a favour Malfoy, stop saying that or I’ll be very cross! Yes, you can drive me nuts, often, check,” her hands checking an imaginary box “This morning was a perfect example of it. But why do you think for heaven’s sake, that you don’t deserve me?” Her hand on his chest now right above his heart.

“I’ve been a coward and a bully.”

“You were a bully when we both were teenagers true, but a coward? When and why?”

“When my wacko aunt Bellatrix tortured you, I did nothing. I hated every second of it, watching what she did to you was tearing my soul apart, but I cringed, I had no courage to defend you, Hermione, it haunts me every day. I failed you so deeply that I still don’t understand how you can move on from it, and you are honestly trying to build a life with me.” Despaired he moved to the window, looking at the skyline of London absently. “Do you have any idea how many nights I spend watching you sleep, stroking the fading scar she left on your arm while the guilt drowns me? I had to keep quiet for my mom’s sake…” his forehead against the cold window glass “I regret so much not having been the man I should have been, protecting you. But my balls were the size of a pea back then, zero courage.”

Coming up behind him she laid a hand on his back, “Draco you were a boy, not a man, this belongs in the past…”

“Does it? You hated me three months ago remember???”

“My feelings about you three months ago are completely the opposite than those I feel now. I hated you yes because I only knew the bully, the Muggle-hater that took the Mark. I’ve moved on, because you showed me that you are a different man than the annoying teenager you used to be.” Her hand was stroking his back, comforting, “I don’t see that boy in front of me now. I see the man who is trying so hard to do well, to amend the mistakes he did and for those he is not to blame. You are not your father, you have a heart, and I see it, day in day out. Let the past go Draco, look forward to the future ahead: our baby boy, me and any other children we have together.” 

“They made me take it, you know the Mark,” he confessed, “I didn’t want to be a Death Eater, seeing what it did to us as a family. It destroyed us. However, pride stopped me from asking you guys for help.” Turning around he put his arms around her, his head on  her shoulder, holding as she was his source of light, “I was a bully to you because I had a crush on you since fourth year. You excelled at everything but flying, always knowing what to say with that fast mouth of yours. How could I, the great Malfoy boy be falling for the most brilliant witch from our time a Gryffindor, Potter's bff and above all a Muggleborn? My bullying behaviour came straight out of the 101 Draco self-protection book, probably page number 1,” he blushed, amusement shone in his voice, just as the shining in his grey eyes facing her, “I was such an idiot.”

Taking his face in her hands, she drew him closer demanding his mouth with her lips. She showed him in a kiss what she didn’t say in words. Tender hands held his cheeks softly, and his hand on the nape of her neck keeping her close. Their intense need for each other was emotional, two souls melting into one. One heart sought forgiveness, the other one absolved. One soul hurting, the other healing.

Out of breath, they parted foreheads against each other regaining control, Draco rasped against her lips “Forgive me.”

“I do, I love you.” Dropping a quick kiss on his lips, she changed the subject, “I guess there’s a Disney musical waiting for me, isn’t that right Mr. Malfoy.” her eyes shined bright.

“That’s correct, and after that a dinner at that Blumenthal’s place,” he murmured.

“Oh! Dinner at… shit, that requires more dressing up and an attempt at taming this hair,” Hermione giggled, “Easier said than done, poor me.”

“Hermione?”

“Yes?”

“What would you say to a small honeymoon trip through Paris and the French coast?”

“Paris?”

“Yes,”

“The Paris with the Eiffel Tour, the Louvre and a boat trip Paris?”

“Yes love, Paris, does it sound good?” he laughs,

“Where’s my Draco and what did you do to him? The boy I knew was not a romantic git,” she asked between the chuckles.

“I guess he got hexed by the most beautiful witch in the world, no rescue possible,” he said “And I don’t regret a moment,” while his hand lay on her belly, “You’re the best thing that could have ever happen to me, Hermione Granger.”

“Wrong, it’s Hermione Malfoy.”


	14. Mickey Mouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the few next chapters triggers might occur from the use of torture and minor violence. Please take this into consideration while reading.

##  **Chapter 14: Mickey Mouse**

 

“Je t’aime Paris!” or in Draco’s version “ge thaim parrris” I love you Paris. Hermione couldn’t stop smiling or better grinning to herself while concocting a new potion, drawing weird looks from her colleagues who probably thought that the pregnancy hormones were affecting her brain. Her memories from their trip to France kept invading her mind.

Their honeymoon was one for the book of the most romantic things ever done by Draco Malfoy. It was perfect and hilarious for her to see him be immersed in the Muggle way of life.

The first of many funny episodes starring her husband happened at the automatic doors leading to the Eurostar platform at the St. Pancras train station (“it’s pronounced St. pAncras Draco, not St. pancrAAs!”). Though it was more running than walking through the glass gates, scared of being sandwiched between them. His haunted face was glorious to watch, even for the few bystanders.

He didn’t entirely trust the iron horse train: “Is this thing safe? It’s going too fast, Hermione! And what in hell are escargots???” The spookiest moment turned out to be entering the Channel tunnel, mostly when she told him they were travelling underneath the water. Hermione almost could hear him pray to all the wizards he knew for a safe arrival above water. Similar to this episode was his reaction to his first trip with the French metro, the gap between the train and the platform was massively deep according to him. She had to drag him by the arm inside before they closed.

Arriving at the Gare du Nord was for both of them a fantastic experience. The old building, the end of the line for many train routes to different parts of the country astonished them; the first of many moments they would experience in romantic Paris. The impressive Notre-Dame Cathedral, the spectacular skyline view of Paris from the highest point on the Eiffel tower, and the romantic night boat trip along the Seine. Between the many people who crossed their paths, Hermione and Draco would just look like another couple deeply in love enjoying this romantic trip; none of them could have guessed that the feelings 4 months ago had been so different.

Draco didn’t bother with the French way of life, he enjoyed notably the delight on Hermione’s face, her cheeks slightly pink of pleasure. The adorable childish way she displayed in the Louvre, fearing for a moment never getting his wife away from it, “Look at this painting Draco and this one…see that other one.” Or when her face was sugar sticky from a cotton candy they shared, “This is the one kind of candy that I can’t eat decently,” she confessed, which after he made a point of licking the sugar from her cheeks a kiss at a time. 

Of course, these moments were the foreplay of the intense lovemaking in their suite at the Hotel George V, the most luxurious hotel in Paris that Draco could find, as he was used to the best and wanted to pamper her shamelessly. 

Yet he genuinely disliked the snails french people enjoyed eating, scrunching his face, “Bah nasty escarghooz”. His French accent or his translations would make her lose it: “Cock oh vain?” His question at dinner on their second day, “That’s not what I think it is, is it ‘Mione?”

“Depends on what you make of it Draco.” She chuckled.

“They don’t cook cocks do they?”

Spitting her sparkling water out, she laughed out loud receiving a lot of  looks of disdain from the nearby tables, condemning her behaviour inside of the 3 star Michelin restaurant Le Cinq. “A coq in French means rooster Draco,” she whispered to him, “It’s just chicken in red wine sauce.”

They checked out four days later to head to the Disney Hotel at the Disneyland Paris. Hermione spotted a leaflet of a mouse called Mickey, and she was so charmed by it that she convinced Draco to go. 

The magical energy surrounding Disneyland enthralled him too, starting right at the beginning with the majestic Main Street U.S.A. the old fashion cars and the buildings resembling the perfect-town-centre from the 20th century. 

He never thought to have a Muggle picture taken with an adult sized dog on two legs called Pluto, according to his Hermione, and feel so much fun doing it. But his big smile didn’t lie. The non-wizard magic feels created by two mice, a dog and countless fake princesses among other characters brought him more delight that he expected. He even walked back to their room singing Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, the earworm he brought back from the parade in the afternoon. 

When his eyes landed on a dad showing his toddler a dancing pair of squirrels, he thought of his own father. Sad but true, Draco couldn’t remember his father and he sharing this kind of moment, it had always been his mother who cuddled him until he reached a certain age. Hermione followed his gaze, sensed his sadness and embraced him right on the spot, “We will show our baby that we love him. I promise you, our son will feel love.” He pictured himself bringing his son to this fun park and let him experience what Muggles did better than Wizards: give their children a carefree childhood filled with love and fun “I love you, Hermione.”

Arriving at their magical suite in one of the top floors from the Disney Castle Hotel, Hermione kicked her shoes off and threw herself back on the bed, laughing, “I can’t move another muscle Draco, I’m so exhausted.” Draco, however, had trouble getting through the doors, his frame hidden behind the two huge mice they bought, Mickey and his girlfriend, Minnie Mouse. “Hermione we will have to resize these two into our bags, no way that I’ll be walking into that train station carrying them…” his voice almost muffled behind the stuffed pets.

The two days they spend at the park, made them feel free like children, riding the carousel or a carriage in the Peter Pan ride - Hermione insisting that he needed to read the book – being wet during the Philharmonic concert or sharing a love apple covered in red icing. She was relieving a flashback to her childhood, for him it was all an entirely new experience. Their sweetest moment was around 9pm at night, watching the fireworks combined with displayed images at the Cinderella castle; his arms snaked around her, his hand protective over her little round belly, their faces against each other surrounded by families and couples.

-oOo-

Hermione startled when she heard the cauldron cook over. “Oh, bloody Merlin,” the mess forcing her out of her daydreaming about her honeymoon. Yet, the funny face of Narcissa seeing the stuffed animals was the cherry on the pie, the epic closure of a romantic week. Her mother-in-law still wondered what on earth was so special about a mouse with disproportioned ears and his so-called girlfriend wearing a red bow with white dots on a similar head.

While she cleaned the cauldron to start over, she chuckled thinking of the house elves and how they avoid the mice, frightened to be crushed by giants in red shorts in a corner inside the bedroom.

-oOo-

The appointment with  healer Samantha for her 16 weeks prenatal consult was there before they knew it, Draco had cleared his day at work and joined her, the two anxious for a peek at their little nugget. 

They had walked into Ginny and Harry on their way in, surprised to find out both women attended the same healer. “We still have to pinpoint that double date, Hermione!” reminded Harry after releasing her from his big brother hug. “Why don’t we have dinner together at the Three Broomsticks and grab a Quidditch game? The Harpies are running against the Kestrels Saturday,” his suggested was immediately approved by Ginny, the witch eager to support her team during her maternity leave.

“Sounds good to me.” Draco’s eyes shining at a chance to watch a live game, Quidditch was his favourite sport, “I’m always in to watch a game.” He looked down at Hermione to see her face smiling, “What?”

“There’s no way I could have guessed that you would accept a suggestion from Harry so easily.” She commented, “If I had known that a golden snitch would have done the trick…” her words muffled in a kiss.

“Woman, stop babbling. Harry, Hermione and I will be there, just tell us when.”

“I’ll drop by tomorrow at the office, I’ll arrange for the tickets too. See you then Malfoy? Hermione, enjoy your appointment in there, sweet sister.” Ginny and Harry departed, after a kiss and a handshake, and Draco and Hermione entered St. Mungo’s Ob’s department, alerting the receptionist of their presence.

“Welcome Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy, take a seat,” said the Healer with a welcoming gesture towards the two chairs in front of the big desk. “How are you feeling Hermione?”

“Apart from some tiredness, good. Just eager to feel the baby move I guess.”

“From now on, it that can happen at any moment. Your baby is learning how to be a baby, so at first, it will feel like bubbles in the water and a secret between mom and son. A few days later you’ll be able to share that secret with your husband, Mrs. Malfoy.” The amused look on Hermione’s face was enough for Draco to see how much pleasure she felt about the secret part.

“It’s not so fair for the dad, methinks.” He commented.

“Indeed Mr. Malfoy but it’s your wife who’s doing all the work isn’t it? Mrs. Malfoy, please follow my assistant who will help you in getting ready for a sneak peek.”

A few moments later two pairs of eyes were in complete awe by the image of their son less nugget but more a baby now. “The measurements are perfect for his development, see his head, fingers…”

When the healer showed them the little penis, Draco couldn’t help himself from looking quite proud, “A real Malfoy indeed,” to much fun of both women. 

Samantha remarked to Hermione, rolling her eyes, “Typical fathers Mrs. Malfoy, I still have to see one not have this behaviour.” 

They left the healers office promising to come back within 4 weeks again for a new check-up.

Back in their room, Draco asked Hermione “Have you thought of a name Hermione? I would like to continue the Malfoy/Black tradition”.

“What is that?”

He explained “The Black family traditionally names the new additions after constellations, and the Malfoy’s add the first name. My name Draco comes from the Dragon constellation”. 

“I knew that already, your mother told me a while ago. I have been looking into books about stars since then.”

“Have you found something you like?” Draco was curious and surprised that she was open to his suggestion, over a Muggle name.

She suggested, “Scorpius Draco Malfoy sounds good don’t you think?”

“Scorpius?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded.

“I like it, but what if we make it less Latin? Like Scorpio? Scorpio Draco Malfoy.”

“I think my dear husband, that we have a name for our son.”


	15. Bonding Over Quidditch.

##  **Chapter 15: Bonding over Quidditch**

 

The double date turned into a reunion of friends from both sides, Harry suggested this to Draco, who agreed immediately - both missed their friends, and it was time the old grudges were buried once and for all. Start from a new leaf so to speak. 

Their party of twelve at the Three Broomsticks brought back sweet memories. The meals at Hogwarts filled with plenty of food and sweets sitting at the long tables of the Great hall, with the only difference the mix of people on those benches: Harry with his Ginny, Ron next to his Luna and Neville cuddling with his wife, Pansy, on the left. Draco and Hermione faced Harry, Cho and Blaise completed the other side with Theo and Astoria at the end. 

Draco barely recognised Pansy; the dark-haired girl was now a softer version of herself displaying warm, caring feelings towards her husband, Neville. If Draco had any doubts left, then they’d be gone entirely, those wizards really must have been foreseeing gods watching another unexpected pair Cho and Blaise. With these three couples, some could say that the merging between the most rivalling houses in Hogwarts was more than successful; a knowing look between him and his Hermione passed, they both thought the same.

The meal began in silence, testing the water cautiously between them but when Ginny and Blaise got involved in a funny discussion about the winning team in the upcoming game, the ice broke completely.

“Zabini, don’t you dare to say that those Irish blokes are better than my crew!” Ginny’s pointed her finger at Blaise with fake anger, narrowing her eyes, “Otherwise I’ll demand from Cho to punish you Gryffindor-wise!”

“And what will that punishment be exactly?” He asked with a big smile on his face his arms crossed over his chest, leaning back.

“Read the full story of Hogwarts out loud would be my suggestion Zabini, it’s a quite interesting book.” Hermione giggled with her know-it-all voice. Harry interjects swiftly, “Hermione means the most boring book ever written believe me, and she made us read it in our second year after the Basilisk attack. Blaise, do me a favour stop riling up my wife will you?”

“It could bring the attention of some Nargles to us you know? They love to steal babies too,” remarked Luna in her genuine way while everyone looked at her questioning before they burst into laughter. “Luna like you there’s only one, my dear,” laughed Ron while giving a peck on his wife’s lips.

-oOo-

“Sweet ginger head, what do women know about Quidditch?” Blaise kept poking the bear, in this case, Ginny, who got used to Blaise’s bantering. They were waiting for the game to start. “Feeling threatened dear BonBon? I won’t tell your secret... to too many people I swear!” Her teasing smile couldn’t be more significant.

“Honey, Blaise bonbon? I’m your husband remember? And I’m standing right here next to you in case you forgot…” Harry pulled gently on her ponytail to watch his wife’s shining eyes. “Well Harry, he’s a dark chocolate milk-coloured snake who suffers from male ego-itis, I’m just crossing some T’s and dotting some I’s. Don’t be jealous, I prefer a Gryffindor in my bed.”

“That’s because you haven’t tried chocolate snakes yet ginger head!” teased Blaise receiving a swat on his head from Cho, “Cut it, Blaise, stop teasing a pregnant woman.”

The group followed the game exchanging snides between the girls and the boys, inside a battle of genders. Harry and Draco kept it close to their ladies, “Potter I’ve got to admit, I’m having fun with your gang's company, though confessing this stabs my heart.” Draco smirked towards Harry, as they heard Hermione and Ginny giggle from something Ron said. 

“Malfoy, man, don’t destroy our so-called feud please, I have a reputation to uphold!” Smirking back to Draco, Harry patted on the blond man’s shoulder, “I wonder why we allowed other men’s problems to invade our lives. I start to believe we lost a chance during our student times; we can’t be friends with everyone but our group mixes better than expected. Hogwarts would have been so different.” Harry’s serious tone and the thoughtful look in his eyes forced Draco to reflect. Harry continued, “I mean we all pee the same colour, we all bleed red. We’ve bled for those who don’t give two cents about what we had to go through, we were simply canon meat in a battle created by a man that wasn’t pureblood himself...”

“It’s up to us to set an example and show the wizarding world that life isn’t about your origins, but about who you are,” Pansy added, the group grew silent to listen to Harry’s reasoning. “I’ve taken a second to look around me, and I realised we are having a major fun together because we don’t give a shit about our house, or the blood type. I apologise for my actions, for what I said; I believed it to be justified, and now it just sounds lame and stupid.”

All the faces nodded in regret. “We all said things that we shouldn’t – but I don’t regret punching you in the face Draco, you offended my friend,” added Hermione her brows raised, teasing him, “I agree with you Pansy let’s move on, we can’t change the past. And please, someone pass me the bowl of popcorn I’m starving here!” Wiping a tear away from her eye, Hermione changed the subject, concealing her emotions behind a dampened smile. Draco embraced her pressing his cheek on the top of her head while his hand stroked her back. “Have I told you today that I love you?” He murmured against her hair. “Not in the past hour I think,” she responded sweet. 

She shrieked softly a while later, “Oh!” startled by a movement she felt inside her belly. Slightly alarmed Draco looked down on her “Hermione, what is it? Aren’t you feeling well?”

“Don’t worry Draco, I just felt something… right here…” her hand on the left side of her belly “oh he did it again”. Beaming up at him she whispered dreamy “I think I felt our baby move Draco, I guess he likes Quidditch.”

Putting his hand on the top of hers he murmured back, “Hmm is this the secret thing between you and him eh? I feel left out!” Draco pouted adorably at her, with gleamy eyes.

With her lips nearly on his, she teased him, “Don’t be silly, he’s learning how to be a baby remember?” kissing him fully on his mouth under the howling from Theo and Blaise. “Guys get a room, we want to watch a game here!!”

-oOo-

Later that night Draco and Hermione returned to their room, commenting how great this day went. The group parted while agreeing to a rerun soon. The boys planned for a boys-only game under the loud protest of Ginny “Not fair guys!”

Hermione decided to go for a warm bath, “My muscles are aching from standing up so long”. Draco walked to the bathroom to start it running, adding some vanilla scented bath bubbles to the water. “Do you wish a massage with it?” 

“Should I floo Blaise?” she asked, teasing him.

He swatted her bum before picking her up gently and carried her to the bathtub, “You witch!”

Undressing them both, he lowered her into the foamy bath sitting behind her and pulling her against him, her legs hooking around his. His hands dropped on her neck and started to massage away the strained muscles, her head falling back on his shoulder out of pure contentment. Small sighing sounds escaped her mouth, feeling the tiredness melt away under his massaging fingers. Her moans sent electric jolts straight into his groin making him mumble under his breath, “Love, this is not the plan, you are tired honey,” praying for some restraint.

She moaned, “Hmm you are doing the magic I love… Draco?”

“Yes?” his mouth near her left ear whispered.

“There are other knots I want you to soften up Draco.” Her soft, needy words didn’t miss their target, “Down there and up here”. She guided his left hand to a breast while the right was brought to her core. 

“Soften it up or harden it more, love?” His tongue licked at the edges of her earlobe between each word. Rolling her clit between two fingers, he felt her respond as she closed her thighs around his arm. His hand moved from one breast to the other, pinching a nipple slightly but not too hard, a sigh coming from her at every move, “So sensitive love, so beautiful”.

Her breath came out shaken, her hips bucking as two fingers entered her while his thumb applied the pressure she longed after. “Draco…” Her sensitive buds went on overload, not even her brain could form coherent words to say. She could only feel his fingers rubbing her, stroking and squeezing. “Love let it go, you are so wet for me.” Stroking her in and out, he felt his lid grow tighter but willed all his control to keep him from coming, hungry for his explosion inside of her walls, “Oh Merlin…” Her back arched, and head pushing against his shoulder, her teeth bit her bottom lip while he kept eyes on her face, her cheeks flushed in full ecstasy. His pace increased, feeling her breaking point approach fast, her legs moving uncontrolled, splashing water out their bathtub. Draco couldn’t get enough; the sight of her bliss, the male pride, washing over him as he never experienced this kind of pleasure with any woman before, “Come for me, love, come.”

A deep moan left her throat his name on her lips; she closed her legs around his wrist as her climax ran through her; her hand locked over his preventing him from taking it away. 

Thoroughly satisfied she smiled at him. 

“My wife is spinning like a kitten.”

“Your wife needs to return the favour.” Standing up she climbs out of the bath, her legs wobbly from her orgasm. He holds her steady, climbs out behind her and grabs a fluffy towel out of the stack to dry her with gentle moves, for himself he let go of soft for the sake of fast as he watched her walk to the bed, seducing him to follow. 

Hermione invited him to lie on the bed face up and caressed his feet with feather-light moves. Taking one of his toes in her mouth she suckles but has to hold stronger to his foot as he draws it back startled.  _ Holy shit, this is hot _ flashed through his mind, but he kept his gaze her, watching every move. 

Hermione smiled smugly; his reactions to her touch light her fire. Letting go of his foot, she roams with her hands up, drawing circles on his thighs. “Woman if you continue like this, I’m going to come right here like a goddamn teenager on his first night. I prefer to be inside of you, balls deep,” his voice carried the lust he feels. Without a word, she grabs the base of his member and takes him in her mouth. “Hermione…” Draco growls. 

Looking up with her smug smile still on her face, she winks at him before she returns to her job at hand; however, after three bob’s he grabs her by her arms and positions her at crotch height, pleading her to straddle his hips. His hand guides his cock to her entrance, and he impales her in one fluid motion. Holding her in place with his both hands he thrusts up frantically, his control melting like snow. Faster than he wants he comes inside her raising up in a seated position, his arms strong around her waist.

He demands her mouth in a devouring kiss, incapable of uttering a word. When he breaks the kiss he looks down to her belly between them and up to her, “I wonder what the kid is thinking,” he says chortling. 

“Speaking of a buzz killer Draco.” she chuckles swatting him on the head.

“I’m so sorry love, you are irresistible, beautiful and I love you.” He wooed. “Hermione, will you marry me?”

“Draco we’re already married!” Her eyes look confused, her head tilted to the side holding a questioning smile on her face.

“This time, for real with all our friends, yours and mine, our family. A wedding day like you deserve to have, to shine like a queen.” His hands caressing her face, worshipping her as his most prized possession.

“I don’t have a family anymore.” His words about a family brought sad memories back as her parents died in a car accident in Melbourne. She had obliviated them so they wouldn’t be a target from Voldemort but ended up losing them anyway.

“Yes you do love, you have the Weasley’s and Potter, they consider you their daughter and sister. You are more loved than you think, Hermione. Will you marry me?” His words went straight to her heart, her eyes filling with tears from his loving tone in his voice.

“I do.” Kiss, “I do.” Kiss, “I do.” With his face in her hands, she shows him exactly how much she loves him in an intense kiss. “Can we go to sleep now? I’m worn out.” She pleads right after.

Lying on the bed like a perfect puzzle, they fall asleep Draco’s hand over her growing belly, hers on the top of his.


	16. House-Elf Vows

##  **Chapter 16: House-elf vows**

 

The weeks flew by in peace. There was no sign of Lucius’s whereabouts, the pregnancy developed as expected, and the foundation of their wedding solidified. Their mutual respect, Draco accepting Hermione’s need for independence, becoming her partner in the search for that goal – which had become imperious now, Hermione his sole focus, hoping for a way to ease her pain during labour.

Narcissa bloomed, the dark bags under her eyes disappeared entirely, and in its place, her face glowed with happiness. She terrorised the elves lately, demanding that they dragged every single piece of nursery furniture that belonged to Draco, and restored it to its former glory, ready for the new generation of the Malfoy’s dynasty.

And Hermione behaved like any other pregnant woman, her mood swung from the loving expectant mother into Draco’s worst nightmare. She developed a love for sweet chilli crisps and instant tomato soup;  _ what on earth made a muggle believe that soup in powder form would be a good idea?  _ Thought Draco for the ninth-time after he scouted a muggle Tesco supermarket in search of the worst invention ever. But he endured it for her, in a temporary Cruella de Vil mood, often at lunchtime at her work. He figured it out by that the stress combined with hunger was the trigger for an evil Hermione. He entered her office already a steamy cup of tomato soup in hand, and her favourite sandwich in a paper bag, or better said her new favourite one: tuna salad with pickles.

“Love, lunchtime honey. Look at what I brought you.” He wooed her, hoping the goods he brought would serve as a white flag at this time of the day.

He received a grunt, “Not now!” His wife sat behind her desk, face in tempest modus, rolling a quill between her fingers. He sat down his burden in front of her after moving some papers out of the way and leaned a leg on the corner of her desk. “What happened now?”

“Those arseholes downstairs are refusing test trials on the potion you and I have created, Draco. We have some patients at St. Mungo’s that suffer from chronic pain that are willing to test it for us voluntarily but no…” Her fists were tight for a second before her right hand stroked her forehead and the other her round belly; she was now in her 28 weeks.

Rising to his feet, he laid his hands on her shoulders massaging the strained muscles there. He spoke then in a soft voice, “How can I help?”

“Can you come up with an unforgivable to give them a taste of their own medicine? To make them suffer just like a woman does pushing this…” both hands on her bump, “out of your body?” Moan.

“Love, does that sound wise?” he winced. 

“I know what pain is…” Hermione continued, thinking of the torture she had suffered at the Malfoy Manor, “… but I don’t know… the thought of…”

“You mean that you are scared about your own childbirth?” He filled in, his hand now stroking her arms up and down, soothing, “I’ve promised you I’ll be there, helping you in every way I can…”

“I know that Draco, I’m just afraid. Not the pain, not that I’m looking forward to it. But I’m scared to lose the baby. What if…” finally Hermione confessed what had been bothering her for a while now, as the due date was approaching fast.

Turning her chair around to face him, he crouched on his knees and made her look at him, “Hermione, the baby is fine, the Healer said so and so does bumblebee here the way he kicks in your beautiful belly.” He rose her blouse to press a kiss on her bare skin, “Don’t worry about things that aren’t happening. Focus on how big he’s growing, how lovely you look, carrying life inside of you, my son.”

“You forget that I can’t tie my own shoes, need someone to grab something off the floor, have to go to the loo every hour, and always coming up with strange food requests.” Glance at the steaming cup, “Plus you definitely forget the ache in my back, how I waddle like a duck lately, how I can set a plate on my belly instead of the table. How my boobs are swelling like two balloons…” She was in one of her rants, while he resisted laughing.

“No complaints about your boobs from me, love, I’m quite fond of more…” swat on his head, drawing a chuckle from him. “Hermione, we are reaching the end line, I’m eager to hold our baby in my arms, curious if he has my hair colour and your curls or the other way around. And we shouldn’t even start about my mother…” they both smiled at the thought of Nana Narcissa. “Come on, finish your lunch and light up that pouty face, you’ll find a way to make things work.” Kissing her quick on the lips, he stood straight, set her chair right and pointed at the paper bag, “You don’t want that kid to be born with a frown glued to his face from all your stress, do you?” She shook her head as he was about to leave her office, “That’s my girl, now eat, relax and I’ll pick you up later.”

-oOo-

Two weeks later Hermione and Narcissa were in the garden, enjoying the sunny day in each others company with a good book.

“Lucius”.

Narcissa’s startled voice drew the attention of Hermione who was admiring a funny bird on a nearby bush. Both sitting upright instantly, they stared at the man that had apparated right in front of them, Narcissa nervous while Hermione was apprehensive, wary. 

They hadn’t heard from him for almost 6 months. Nobody had seen him, no signs of life. And now, out of nowhere this man - more a ghost than the proud man he used to be, was looking down at them, his face unreadable.

“It was time I returned to MY house.” He spoke in an arrogant dry tone, the look in those grey eyes full of disdain, a shade darker than Draco’s. “Krops! Bring me fire whiskey, I’m thirsty.”

The house elf travelled back and forth in a second putting the bottle and a glass in front of Lucius who now took a seat in front of the two women. The big eyes of the elf were wary of his master, fearing for his mistress and the young woman. Krops served the Malfoy family for ages now, but at this very point, even he couldn’t decide between warning the young Malfoy master of the impending danger or remaining faithful to the older one. 

Deciding to keep a watch on the two women he made himself invisible. He might still not be a great fan of Misses Hermione, but even he couldn’t deny that her presence brought peace and love back to this house. Every time he saw his Mistress smile out of content, it made his little heart glow, and he would do anything to prevent his Mistress Narcissa from redrawing back to the dark period she had gone through. Narcissa always treated him with care, on the contrary of his master Lucius who took pleasure to hurt him on every occasion. 

Draining down the glass of fire whiskey in a swig, Lucius took a good look at Hermione and her round belly now at her 30 weeks. “It didn’t take you too long I see, I’m happy that my son the weakling performed worthy of a real Malfoy,” he said acidly, “Care to share the good news? It is an heir or does he need a second round?”

“Lucius don’t talk to…”

“Was I addressing to you, my wife? I haven’t heard you, Miss Granger?” Glancing quickly and vicious at Narcissa, he returned his sight to look down at Hermione who in return didn’t back down, facing him straight in the eye. Her right hand, however, was folded around her hidden wand while the left rested protectively around her belly. “It’s a son, thank you for asking. Draco is pleased…”

“As he should,” Lucius interjected, “All Malfoy’s have produced an heir, but I feared that your impure blood would counteract with our ancient family tradition.” Both Lucius as Hermione kept glaring defiantly at each other, on his face a strained vein pulsed, the evidence of his contained anger; her anxiety was visible in her rapid breathes.

“I’ll be in my chambers, I do not give anyone permission to disturb me at any point. This is still MY house, and you all will do as I dictate. Fight me, and the consequences will be all on you. And you may not like them.” His words lingering in the air, hateful.

Disappearing as quick as he showed up, he left both women trembling at their table. Hermione rushed to her mother-in-law cradling the distraught woman in her arms, “Narcissa calm down, Draco will be here to help us. Please, mother.”

Red eyes fixed into Hermione’s searching for support, “I underestimated you, Hermione, you are so much stronger than I expected. My son needs you, but so do I now. What do we do? I fear for us, Hermione, for us, my grandson, Draco”. She was desperate, embracing Hermione as tight as the belly let her, “I just want peace, we have endured so much. And he keeps stepping on my heart, unfazed with the consequences of what it does to me.” Sobbing and hanging on to Hermione with all her might, “Hermione my husband wasn’t like this when I met him. Distant yes but not hateful and now look at him, he barely looks at me.”

“Mother, look at me. I’m here, Draco loves you, and together we will find a way. He should be at Azkaban right now for his behaviour, not walking around freely.” Holding Narcissa’s face in her two hands, she forced the older woman to look up. “What I don’t understand is where all this hate comes from, he wasn’t like this when I first arrived here.”

“The owl from the Minister. Until that point, he truly believed that his name still meant something and would get away with a warning. But they are setting an example with him, where violence towards any person wizard or muggle will not be tolerated.” The older woman’s voice broke, “Draco will be out of his mind when he hears this…”

Krops, still hidden from the two women, made a vow to protect them at any cost. He was going to set up an army of elves to keep a watch and intervene if necessary. He corrected himself,  _ not if but when _ . He had a bad feeling about the return of his older master, and he hated when this happened, knowing that it was a rare  moment when he was wrong.  _ Gather an army of elves first; guard the women, his younger master and the baby next. _ Those were his priorities.  _ Or he would not be named Krops _ .


	17. Red Alert.

##  **Chapter 17: Red Alert**

 

Krops apparated in front of Draco’s desk at Malfoy Enterprises, startling the blond wizard, “Master Draco, don’t be angry at Krops Master, but it’s very urgent that Master returns home. Krops fears for the lives of Mistress Narcissa and Misses Hermione, Master. Old master Malfoy has returned, you see young Master Malfoy?” The Elf kept babbling in distress and with every word, aggravated the tension inside Draco.

Draco commanded to the elf enraged, “Follow me Krops!” heading to the manor. The mere seconds it took to travel between the two places weren’t enough to prepare him for the sight he found. His mother was scared stiff and being held in a tight embrace by Hermione while the younger woman looked paler than a ghost.

“Hermione, are you okay? Mother?” Kneeling in front of them, his hands flew between the two female frightened faces; caressing and soothing, insuring himself that they were safe, “Mother, please calm down, your panic is only increasing Hermione’s distress.” Staring intently at his wife he asked, “Did he do anything to you? To the baby?”

“No Draco, he was being his arrogant self, denigrating us and threatening if we disturbed him. I guess he locked himself up in his chambers, but I haven’t checked.” Hermione’s voice was steady despite the shivering.

Krops intervened, though he stared at the floor fearing punishment for the interruption, “Master Draco, one of the house-elves has indeed confirmed that Master Lucius is in his chambers.” To the elf’s surprise, Draco showed his gratitude, “Krops, I’m not going to punish you for interrupting. I’m more than grateful that you came to warn me. I will do you no harm you have my word.” 

Draco had a feeling he would need the elf’s help, and the house-elf shouldn’t fear punishment for speaking up. Rising to his feet, he marched towards his father’s chambers and attempted to enter the room, but he was slammed against the opposite wall. The door was apparently hexed to prevent access, the burn still searing on the palm of Draco’s hand. He shouted at the closed door, “Father open this door immediately!”

No words came from the other side, and Draco used every charm to force the doors open albeit with no success. Alarmed by the course of events he ran downstairs and ordered the house-elf to guard both the women while he ran all the options he had, bring his mother and Hermione in to safety. He paced back and forth, shoving a hand over his hair; his head was spinning, and the start of a massive headache built in the back of his head. His father knew all the locations belonging to the Malfoy family, and it left Draco with empty-handed concerning a safe-house.

Distraught and accepting he ran out of options, Draco decided to set his pride aside and do the unthinkable, requesting transportation to a specific Auror’s office Floo. “Guard my mother and my Hermione, Krops!”

-oOo-

Harry Potter scared himself half to death when he saw the blond wizard step out of his Floo, but one look at the other man’s face was enough to understand this was not going to be a pleasantry, “What do you need, Malfoy?” 

“I don’t have much time, and believe me when it pains my arse to admit this, but I need your help now. I believe Hermione and my mother to be in grave danger.”

“What? I need more details Malfoy- …” His Auror-senses were on high alert.

“Come with me to the Manor, right now!” Draco waited until Harry was next to him to return home, making room for the other wizard upon arrival. But his heart froze on the spot…

*in the meantime*

Lucius descended the stairs in ultimate silence, waiting for his moment until the elf poofed away to grab a requested glass of water and shouted a series of petrificus totalus curses at Narcissa and Hermione, paralysing both women. He scooped Hermione, turned to his wife with full hate in his eyes as he spoke, “It’s time to set things right around here.” And disapparated at the same moment Draco, Harry showed up at the heard, and Krops returned to the great hall.

The last thing the three new arrivals saw was the sinister smile of the patriarch of the Malfoy family before the two vanished in thin air.


	18. DAY ONE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings apply for this chapter, there's violence and torture included. Please take this into account if it could trigger any unpleasant memory.

##  **Chapter 18: DAY ONE**

 

**Day one.**

 

***Malfoy Manor***

 

“HERMIONE!” Draco’s face turned ashen, eyes wide open and his shrill scream cut through bone. His hand frozen mid-air stretched out in a weak attempt to hold her with him. His brain had trouble coping with what had happened, it happened all so fast. But a glance at the dark-haired wizard and he saw his own terror mirrored in the other man’s face. 

Harry bumped into him leaping forward to the place where Lucius had vanished, turning around in a circle screaming, “Where did he take her? Where is she?” 

Draco came to his senses and ran to his mother, releasing her from the paralysing spell, “Mother! Hermione, where could he have taken her?”

Shaking her head she could barely form words, “I don’t know… I…” before she broke down crying.

They heard bonking on the table and saw Krops slamming his head hard against it, mumbling, “It’s Krops fault…Krops should have not left for water… Krops did not guard Mistress and Misses well …Krops deserves punishment… Krops bad elf.” Harry headed to the house-elf and gave him a shove, “Cut it out, it’s nobody’s fault but that filthy piece of shit. Stop hurting yourself.”

“Mister Potter, Krops failed Misses and his Mistress badly, Krops…”

“KROPS!” Draco raised his voice, “Stop hurting yourself!”

Looking at the spot where Hermione just had disappeared from, Draco faced his wife’s best friend in despair, “Potter?”

The extensive Auror training kicked in, and Harry speared a list of questions at both Malfoy’s, “Where could he have taken her? Where are all your estates? Places he could have gone too? Why did he do this now? What could have been the trigger?” Pacing non-stop across the great hall and using big arm gestures in stress.

“We have a place in Ireland and one in France, Potter, but the reason why? I didn’t even see him!” Draco sputtered, “Mother, do you know more?”

Narcissa stammered, “Only those two you already mentioned, Draco, aside from this Manor, but he hasn’t been there. We heard nothing from him for the past six months, and I personally checked those estates just to be sure he wasn’t hiding there. They were dusty and empty, left exactly behind as we did, since our last visit.” Trembling, she sought support on her son’s shoulder, “But when he arrived, Draco, he looked insane, his expression contorted, unrecognisable. It wasn’t the man I know, but a lunatic, reminding me of my sister Bellatrix.” Draco held her tightly against his chest.

Harry took control, “Malfoy, I want you to gather every information you might have on your father's habits, where he goes, who he visits, eventual hide-outs from the time he was a Death Eater. I’ll sound a red alert through the ministry and gather as many people as I can to start a search party.”

The stern eyes of the house-elf followed every movement and paid much attention to all the orders Harry was giving his Master, memorising them all in his little head. He felt responsible for the abduction and was determined to help his Master to find his Misses; realizing in anger that his magic couldn’t be of much help to track his Master’s wife.

“Malfoy, make that list for me, and I’ll be back on a whim.”

Taking some floo-powder in his hand, Harry headed to the ministry.

* **Somewhere in Nottingham** *

Taking huge strides forward Lucius carried Hermione inside the abandoned castle he had used as a hide-out. She was still under the paralysing spell, unable to move, but while her eyes were wide with panic, she felt the spark of determination to fight back when given a chance to. 

Looking down at her he laughed with disdain, “Miss Granger, don’t you break your head with finding a way to escape from here, alive at least. You have destroyed the Malfoy family, and I intend to restore it to the grandeur it once was before you polluted it with your foul blood.”

Descending a wooden staircase that cracked at every step, he dumped his cargo rudely on a dirty mattress. He grabbed a metal chain dangling from the cellar’s ceiling and close the handcuff around one of Hermione’s wrists and repeating the move on the other one before he used his wand to stretch the chains upwards, lifting Hermione into the air by her arms.

He fastened a rag around her mouth, knotting it behind her head, “We can’t have you performing wordless magic, can we? I have to admit that you are quite a powerful witch, I would be weak and stupid to underestimate you.” The insane tone of his voice was the give away about his mental state, “You have no idea how much I loathe you for beating my son at school. That weak example of the Malfoy gene was never able to excel at anything because a bushy haired mudblood won time after time.” Casting a finite, he released her from her full body bind spell and slapped her hard in the face, forcing her head sideways; Hermione winced from the assault.

Squeezing her face hard in his hand he described his plans to her, leaving no room for doubt at every detail, “I’m going to make you feel intense pain, what Bellatrix did to you, will feel a walk in the park.” He pressed the point of his wand into her throat while it was projecting small jolts of electricity. Hermione kept his gaze fixed on hers while resisting giving in to the pain. “The mutt my son conceived must go, no Malfoy is allowed to exist if it his origin isn’t from a pureblood liaison. In time the weakling will find a new wife to procreate accordingly.” Grinning sinister at her, he ended his declaration, “Yes Miss Granger, the only way you’ll get out of here is in a body bag after I’m done with you. And that will be only after you have witnessed the mutt’s death of course.”

_ He’s insane he has lost his mind. My son! Draco! Help me!  _ Hermione was trembling, it was evident that in this situation she was helpless and wholly at his mercy. Silent tears trailed down her face, but in her mind, she repeated protego as a mantra, her last straw in the fight to protect her son at all costs.

Lucius tugged hard on her hair, forcing her head backwards, “Mudblood tears, how pathetic.” Untangling his hands from her head, his next punch on her head knocked her out unconscious.

***Malfoy Manor***

Within the space of thirty minutes, the great hall of Manor went from empty to overcrowded. The grave concern for the wellbeing of Hermione united everyone present, though Harry had first to untangle Ron from Draco. The ginger-haired flew at the blond’s throat upon arrival, “I knew you were bad luck, I’m killing you for the pain she’s enduring at the hands of your bloody father!”

Ron was slammed against the wall by Harry, who knocked some sense into his best friend, “Ron, look at the man! Does he look like he’s having fun? Look at him! He is suffering as much as you and I are, damn it!”

Seeing his friend pull his wits together, Harry let him loose and stood next to Draco. The panic and desperation had been replaced with a resolve to fight for the woman he loved, no matter the cost. Ron’s attack didn’t even register in his head. Furthermore, he was more than impressed at the number of people volunteering to help search for his wife.

He discerned the faces of his own Slytherin friends Theo, Blaise, Pansy and even Marcus Flint. The Gryffindor side outweighed the scale with their numbers, almost the entire Weasley family – Molly had made Ginny vow she would remain behind with Narcissa due to her advanced stage of pregnancy. Neville, Lavender, and some Hogwarts professors with professor McGonagall upfront, plus very well possibly the entire body of the Auror’s corps.

Draco raised his brows at an unusual sight in the corner; Krops had gathered possibly a dozen house-elves around him and was dealing orders himself, “Spread the word to all the elves you know, make it known that we are searching for Misses Hermione. Demand that a warning must be sound if anyone would catch a whiff on her location. We owe her for the respect she showed us, showed Dobby and me, may his soul rest in peace.”

Draco’s compiled list of known locations increased significantly with the addition of intel the Auror’s had on his father. Under the leadership of Harry, all participants got paired, though Harry had the hunch to link a Slytherin to a Patronus performing wizard, their most effective way to communicate with a large crowd. Each pair received a location, and almost immediately the full room was empty apart from Narcissa, Ginny and Krops, the house-elf demeanour in full battle-mode.

Every heart crushed with one grave concern, the burning hope to find Hermione before it was too late.


	19. DAY TWO.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings apply for this chapter continue to apply, there's violence and torture included.

##  **Chapter 19: DAY TWO**

 

**Day 2**

 

***Draco***

He was paired with Harry, the two most unlikely partners in the past, cooperating in the search for the woman who united them. They had swiped yesterday the Irish Malfoy property in Sligo, located in the neighbourhood of the Sacred Wells of Tobar Nalt. Harry remarked frowning, “Your family has a peculiar taste for sacred places, even Celtic ones eh?”

Shrugging his shoulders, he had brushed it off, “I don’t care for these things, this has always been more my ancestor's thing than mine.” Running through the impressive estate with its vast windows and stales, the men had soon learned that it was empty and dusty just like Narcissa had told them. The stables and the basement’s present residents were spiders and other animal life, but no humans.

Today they apparated to Malfoy Enterprises, going through every office and floor, every book and parchment on Lucius office that could give away a secret location of Draco’s father whereabouts but they remained clueless.

“Where the fuck is she, Potter? How can we find a man that doesn’t want to be found?”

“Money traces perhaps?” suggested Harry.

“Fuck, how could I forget? Let’s pay those Goblins a visit.” They apparated from the manor to the Gringotts wizard bank’s front door, and Draco barged in, taking large strides to the end of the main hall, coming to a stop at the front desk of the Head Goblin. “I demand to know if you’ve seen my father lately?”

The goblin looked down with the typical goblin disdain, wondering if the young Malfoy had lost his mind; he answered him with an arrogant tone in his voice, “We do not give any information regarding our customers, confidentiality is primordial in our business.”

“You can put your confidentiality where the sun never shines, answer my bloody question! Has my father been here as of late?” Draco’s patience was melting faster than snow in the sun, he always found goblins to be arrogant pieces of shit.

However silence was the answer he received, the main hall now exceptionally quiet as all present goblins and the few human guards focused on the wizard duo. The unwillingness of the dwarf-looking creature to answer his question worked as a red cloth on a bull. With two steps Draco climbed above the goblin’s desk and dragged him over the table and across the marble floor; chasing him down and pinning the being on the ground. Draco towered above the creature, his wand stabbing painfully in the short throat, “One last time you piece of shit, have you seen my Father?” Stabbing deeper nearly to the point of drawing blood, he kept asking desperate but fiercely, “My Father has abducted my wife, who’s heavily pregnant and in grave , mortal danger. Tell me you bloody bastard, have you seen my Father?”

Harry walked fast towards Draco, replaying out what just happened in front of his eyes. Draco was losing his control rapidly, and Harry knew from experience, that you should not underestimate the Goblin’s magical power and talent for wandless wizardry. Laying a hand on the Draco’s shoulder, he tried to talk some sense into the other man, “Draco, man this is not the way to get information from these guys.” The blond gazed him with an enraged look, “Calm yourself Drac-.”

Harry felt a small hand tapping his own shoulder and turned around to face a familiar countenance, Griphook. “Mister Potter, I’m breaking a massive number of rules and bylaws, but in light of the events. We have also been informed of…” looking at Draco, Griphook noticed he had the blond wizard’s attention as well. Sighing the goblin spoke again, “Mr. Lucius Malfoy made a withdrawal from one of his vaults a few weeks ago, but as customary we do not ask questions. As my superior has told your friend, confidentiality has to be safeguarded at all times.”

Draco bowed his head, breathing raggedly while rising to his feet. Another dead end, “If he has cash, he can be anywhere.” Fingers stroke over his forehead, searching to control his desperation; he fixed his gaze on the goblin who spoke, “He didn’t leave any clue?”

“I’m very sorry Mr. Malfoy, he hasn’t. I’m not lying though I’m probably about to lose my job here, I’m breaking the secrecy code…” Draco shook his head in denial, “If you lose your job for helping me find my wife, then this bank can say goodbye to the contents of every single Malfoy vault. I’ll transfer every asset we possess to another bank.” His threat didn’t go lost on the Head Goblin who refrained from fighting back. The blond wizard might not be his equal when it came to performing magic, but he was more than a vital client to this bank. The Head Goblin feared that if the Malfoy vaults were transferred, some of his other important clients would follow, those who were close friends to this century-old family.

Closing his eyes in defeat, Draco sighed, “Another day Potter, we lost another day, and it’s another day that Hermione is at the hands of a man who has become a complete psychopath.”

“Malfoy, let’s regroup at the Manor and hear if the others have more luck in finding any clues.” Sighing himself, Harry turned to Griphook, “Thank you for your honesty Griphook and please, secrecy or confidentiality or whatever you want to call it or not, if you hear of anything concerning Lucius Malfoy or Hermione, just tell us. Draco was not exaggerating, it is a matter of life or death. Please?” The goblin nodded in agreement.

***Hermione***

She woke up disoriented; it was dark apart from a few rays of sun protruding from cracks in the wall, and she registered the mouldy humid smell surrounding her. Her shoulders hurt severely from the suspending position she was in. The events from the previous day came to her mind in shards, being paralysed by the full body bind spell, the maniacal look on Lucius' eyes, her wrists locked in tight handcuffs, and the maddening tone on Lucius' voice while he described the horrors awaiting for her. The pain from the blows on her head.

Around her, she only heard the sound of wind coming from a small blackened window on the corner, but further, it was perfectly still. No footsteps, no movements, nothing. She was alone. Alone, hungry and thirsty and filthy, recognising the stench of urine coming from her clothes.  _ Oh fuck. _

Gaining some clarity in her head, she looked around her in search for a tool of any kind, something to help her escape out of this mess, the hell he was putting her through. She sought to free her arms, wrenching them above her head but all she did was dig the handcuffs deeper into her skin, trails of blood descending down her arms.

She noticed a mattress close to her, almost within her reach. Wiggling gently back and forth, she straightened her foot as far as she could, her shoe almost gripping the corner the mattress. Not giving up despite the pain in her arms, she kept balancing until her foot started to pull the bed along. Wincing from the pain, she repeated it over and over again until it was under her feet, raising her a bit higher in position and relieving her suffering slightly.

Giving in to her agony, she cried; her sobs muted by the filthy rag in her mouth.  _ My little Scorpio, hang in there with Mommy honey, we need to stay strong. Daddy is coming, he’ll come to save us, little one. He’ll save us. Stay strong with Mommy. Protego. Protego. Protego. Protego… _

Her only hope that kept her going, Draco arriving in time to save them both. She had to keep her faith in him, she had to. Because the other option was not an option at all.  _ Draco, I need you! _


	20. Day Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings apply for this chapter continue to apply, there's violence and torture included.

##  **Chapter 20: DAY THREE**

**Day 3**

***Hermione***

The face of Lucius brutally awakened her. Grey skinned, dark shadows around the red eyes of a man that hasn’t slept in days, his hair that once shined bright was now greased and in haggard tresses. His fingers were digging deep into her face. She barely contained a whimper but fought with every ounce of restraint to not let him hear her fear, though she couldn’t avoid the trail of tears running down her cheeks. He had kicked the mattress from under her feet, and she was left hanging again in a painful suspension from the chains.

He spoke to her, keeping his mouth just an inch away from her own, spitting at her with every word, “Mudblood, I’ll make you pay. Make you pay for your part in the destruction of Lord Voldemort’s empire, for polluting the Malfoy family with every gesture, every word you’ve spoken, every time you touched my son.” Yanking hard at her head with his gripping hand, he continued his deranged speech, “Lord Voldemort’s vision was the future for the wizarding world, a world where there is no place for mudbloods and blood traitors. Hogwarts must be elite, only the best from the very best allowed to be introduced to the magic world and indoctrinated into perfection.”

_ He’s insane. He’s becoming a psychopath… _

She heard him going on, speaking faster and faster, his voice in a higher pitch than his usual tone, “During Lord Voldemort’s stay at our manor, I’ve got in possession of a vial of Emerald Potion…” Hermione’s eyes widened in panic, recognising the potion as the one Dumbledore had to drink to find the lost locket, “This potion mudblood, will make you feel extreme pain, excruciating pain, making you wish for instant death. But I will not give you such a pleasure, and I’ll enjoy seeing you suffer, after that I’ll make you watch me kill the mongrel you are carrying in a slow and torturous way…” Hermione screwed her eyes shut, the images crossing her mind tormented her, the knowledge that with her arms suspended and wandless, she couldn’t move a finger to protect her son. “When I’m done with the monster, I’m coming for you, inflict you the hideous pain slowly until your mudblood heart stops beating.”

She was now sure that Lucius was displaying every sign of a mentally disturbed person.  _ Draco, please hurry. _

Lucius uncorked the vial and let the full content flow into her mouth, smiling disturbingly sinister, eyes wide open. Closing her mouth and nose, he forced her to swallow. Hermione screamed almost immediately at the top of her lungs, although the rag stifled her voice. Nevertheless, her screams came from deep down her throat, the pain as severe as the one Bellatrix inflicted while carving mudblood in her arm. Her insides stung as if they were being stabbed from within by thousand pins, slashing her open and leaving slow trails of fire burning excruciatingly hot. Her fingers strained from the intense agony running through her body, her head falling backwards in defeat. Fighting hard to stay awake, she continued to repeat in her mind the protego spell, her willpower strong and powerful for the protection of her baby against the evil force, despite the burning pain in her.

The pain lasted endlessly, hot tears ran down thru her face, and she caved in, weakened; she just couldn’t take it anymore. In the distance she heard him laugh in complete madness, revelling in her torture, applauding to her display of pain, “Magnificent, I knew it, I knew that the mudblood would surrender to her master, her superior. So good, so delicious, if only Lord Voldemort was here to witness… hahaha.”

_ Protego _ … her last thought before the searing pain took her out.

***Draco***

The large table that once housed a gathering of Death Eaters was now the centrepiece for all members seating around, updating the others on their search results. The list had been enlarged and fully crossed with thick red lines as all the known locations of Lucius whereabouts had been crossed off. “He visited no estates, and his office is untouched. We know he’s in possession of cash what makes him completely mobile. He can go to places where his face isn’t immediately recognised.” Shacklebolt was as Head Auror resuming everything they knew until now. All the pairs had returned empty-handed, no trace found that could lead to a breakthrough. 

Draco listened to the summary, elbows on the table and his head resting on his hands. Shacklebolt continued, “The next step will be paying a visit to all known Death Eaters in their lairs, I would suggest that some of us Auror’s to question those inside the walls of Azkaban as well.” A few heads nod, requesting a specific task for themselves. Draco inquired with his eyes still closed, “What about Knockturn Alley?”

Harry and Shacklebolt looked at him curiously, and Draco shrugged, looking Harry in the eye, “The owners of those shops might not have been Death Eaters themselves, but many supported the thinking of Voldemort’s ideas and have often been suppliers of dark magic artefacts.” Again a nod from the entire group; Harry picked up Draco’s train of thought and suggested, “We could pay those a visit as well, apply some pressure? No harm, no foul, we are not talking about angelic souls are we?”

The group split once more, part of the Auror’s corps heading to Azkaban while a small group paid a visit to Death Eaters that still walked around freely. The rest departed to Knockturn Alley in a synchronised swipe of the dark shops there; the inquiries had to happen simultaneously to avoid the sounds of alert, this last idea one coming from Draco again. His previous experience as Death Eater was proving vital in the understanding how that underground world worked.

***Knockturn Alley***

Draco and Harry took two locations on their account, Borgin and Burkes and Mr. Mulpeper's Apothecary. The interrogation of Borgin led to nothing useful, though both Harry and Draco had employed less than justified means of questioning, their minds clouded by anger, revenge and scores that still had to be settled. 

Neither wizard tried to stop nor talk sense into the other. Both much too aware of the part that Borgin had played during the second battle by providing access to the vanishing cabinet connected with the one inside the room of requirement. The cabinet was hidden by Burke and Borgin to serve a dark purpose when the time would come.

The payback for that provided service was long due, an item on Harry’s secret revenge list, who embraced the opportunity to settle that specific score.

When the two men left the shop, they left a trail of severe damage behind to both owner and merchandise; the look Draco gave to Harry mirrored their personal satisfaction.

Their next stop was less destructive of nature the Apothecary had less to answer for, regarding its participation in both battles. 

“Mr. Mulpeper, have you seen my father of late?” The casual demeanour of Draco with his arm on the counter felt familiar to Harry, bringing memories of Draco’s inquiries back at Hogwarts before he would strike again snapping.

The older man nodded, “Yes, Mr. Young Malfoy, your father has honoured our shop with a visit…” Draco’s posture changed to an alert, his back straight, the casual tone gone in seconds; Harry approached cautiously, this was their first real trace after three days of empty hands, “Mr. Mulpeper when was that?”

The man faced Harry curiously, only now noticing the famous wizard’s presence, “You must forgive my old mind, I’m not so sure about such details-” 

Draco interrupted, his patience running low, “When did you last see him?”

Uneasy from the threatening tone of the blond wizard’s voice, the man stammered, “Mr. Malfoy, it must have been two weeks ago, perhaps three…”

Draco didn’t let it go, “And what did my father want? Has he bought anything?” his face apprehensive,

“Yes Mr. Malfoy, he bought several ingredients for different potions, sir.”

“Like what?” Harry’s stern voice, made Mulpeper’s focus switch from Draco to him, “What did he buy?”

“Several things, ingredients… ah, now I recall because I found it peculiar, his request, Mr. Malfoy demanded Hemlock, he spoke of recreating a potion…”

“Hemlock?” The icy tone of Harry’s voice drew the attention of Draco, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter, Hemlock used for doxycide potion…” the older man was cowering before them, 

“But also a possible ingredient for the Emerald potion also known as the drink of despair? Right?” Grabbing the man by his shirt, Harry brought his face closer to him.

“Potter, what is it about that despair drink?”

“Dumbledore drank that potion while emptying the well where a lost Slytherin locket was presumed present. I had to feed him that drink because he couldn’t do it himself, blinded by pain and relived horrible memories.” Panic crossed his face, “If your father is forcing Hermione to drink this…”

Infuriated Draco grabbed Mulpeper by his throat, “Has my father mentioned where he was staying?”

Choking, the older man denied, “No… Mr…. Malfoy…”

Dragging Draco hard back by his shoulder, Harry attempted to calm his partner down, “Malfoy, killing this man won’t help us forward. He just sold goods, he didn’t commit a crime.”

“She’s enduring pain! And we are here doing what? Chit chatting about the weather? Potter, my wife… is… out… there… suffering!” With a swipe of his arm, he smashed every item on the counter to the floor, the sound of breaking glasses jingling in the aftermath.

***Hermione** *

Wetting her lips - dry for three days without water, she wept silently. For the moment she was alone once more, slowly recovering from the suffering. But her luck didn’t last long. She felt his sharp nails scrape painfully over her scarred arm, over the carved memory of her torture back on the manor.

She barely noticed he had lowered the chains forcing her now to kneel before him,“Well, well, well, look who’s awake again, ready for round two mudblood?” Lucius insanity was reaching dangerous levels.

She saw the flicker of a small knife in his palm seconds before she felt the tip follow the curved path, turning her head away, unable to scream, her voice hoarse from the previous assault. The sharp point was cutting the scars open, pressing deep, the traces burning her arm once more. Her will to live was diminishing fast, how much pain could she endure,  _ I need to stay strong,… Draco! _

The blood was gushing out from her arm, the pain unbearable once again, “We must make sure that you never forget your place in our world mudblood. My beloved Bellatrix did a great job marking your skin, allow me to restore her work.” He shrieked in delight, “One can not spill enough mudblood.” His maniacal smile was frightening, as he retreated some steps back to admire his work of art; Hermione’s face pale white, leaning weakly forward and falling on the ground as her strength left her body.

“I have a splendid idea, next time I’m adding a cruciatus curse!” Clapping on his hands happy with his newest and brilliant idea, he turns away and walks out of the basement. His job was done for today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N.
> 
> This was for me a three chapter long angst-marathon, a new out-of-comfort zone. I would love to hear from you how you experienced these last chapters, to know if I can or not handle this right.
> 
> There is still some rough waters ahead for the next chapter, but I see light in the end of the tunnel. Let us say its closer than 3 chapters ago.
> 
> Please send me your thoughts (constructive pls!)
> 
> Dramione love to all,
> 
> Ruthy
> 
> ps to my lovely french fan: angst = angoisse
> 
> pps: I wanted to use a stargazing baby birth that has a name in folklore (moonwalker or dreamwalker or so...) but I forgot the right term and google couldn't help me. Does anyone know? It means a baby that later will be a big creative mind, who (dares) to dream, something positive of meaning.
> 
> now I'm out.


	21. DAY FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To my longtime followers until today, june 13th. This story has undergone major reconstruction and fully revised by my lovely beta's Marlygrl and Lana. I invite you to restart the story as I have added a load of new extra content to the previous chapters and was forced to renumber every chapter.
> 
> Chapter 20 is the old 17 with some new elements.
> 
> If you are a new follower, ignore the above but not my warning here below! Happy reading.
> 
> Minor violence and emotional turmoil ahead. Possibly the end of some torture, or not?

##  **Chapter 21: DAY FOUR**

 

**Day 4**

***Draco***

He felt lost.

The bottom line to their intensive search: they had zero leads on Hermione’s location apart from the fact that his father was in possession of the ingredients to create dark potions meant to hurt deeply.

Sitting on the tip of a recliner in the great hall he let his head rest on his hands. The initial group had diminished in numbers: the corps of Auror’s was now working from the Ministry, the teachers were forced to return to Hogwarts and Ginny had been dragged away by her mother under massive protest. Leaving him with Potter and the Weasel rat he had started to respect - calling him Weasley was still a bridge too far - the Weasel rat’s brother George, and his father plus Neville and Draco’s own closest friends Theo and Blaise. But nobody spoke.

Narcissa rested in her chambers - a whim of the proud woman she used to be, under the constant supervision a house-elf assigned by Krops himself.

The Weasley’s were gathered around the table, overviewing for the millionth time the steps they had taken, looking for the clue that no one saw, interacting heatedly with Theo and Blaise, while Neville chewed on every word. Harry paced silently in front of one of the windows; his hair dishevelled more than usual from one too many strokes from his fingers.

If someone had told Draco a year ago that Slytherins and Gryffindors would be collaborating in his manor, he would have suggested the man to search for help at the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo’s. Now he found himself praying to every wizard, Buddha and Vishnu he knew and even to the Muggle’s Pope; begging for a miracle. Praying for all of them to keep his wife safe and give her the strength she needed to fight back, help them find her, safe and sound, their son protected in her womb.

But as time ran out, so did his hope; he wasn’t stupid and knew all too well of all the evil his father could inflict especially if the man had lost every single ounce of sanity.

_ Merlin, Muggle God, Hermione’s Jesus, please help her. _

***Hermione***

She lay on the ground in a fetal position, shivering from the cold. She had been able to get rid of the rag that dangled around her neck, the chains were loose and gave her room for movement. Her hands cradled her bump, rubbing it in soothing movements, lying still when she felt her baby kick in response; Scorpio’s way of telling her he was there with her, holding on.

She startled at every noise coming from upstairs, fearing the moment Lucius would come downstairs and finish the job. Hermione knew she wouldn’t survive another attack, and her batteries were running low. It was the fourth day without water; the hunger feeling vanished by now. She felt weak; her open scar wouldn’t seal, and her sight was blurry.

Hermione allowed herself to close her eyes and rest her mind as she did so now and then, sleeping was no option in this case; her hearing always on alert.  _ My dear son, I’m sorry for failing you. Forgive me for not fighting hard enough. I love you, baby, I love you.  _

Her heart sped up, his footsteps thunk-tapped on the stairs the wood cracking at every step,  _ No! Go away! _ She heard him talk to himself, uttering incoherent sentences, “They need to worship Lord Voldemort… Rise to power… Learn who’s the boss… Bow before…”

He reached the bottom of the stairs and launched a red light spell at her, “Crucio!” Pain sheeted through her with a terrifying intensity, jolts of high voltage running through her merciless. Her body contorted in response, and she shrieked. In the distance she heard him laugh darkly, “I warned you mudblood, I was going to give you a taste of a true cruciatus curse.”

Ten seconds passed, then twenty and thirty and finally, the tide of pain came to a rest, leaving her panting, crying desperately from her hopeless situation.  _ Scorpio! _

He paced around her, reminding her of a wolf checking out his prey before striking; she glanced at him, and her blood turned ice-cold. His face was blood red, maniacal red-rimmed eyes looked at her, no, it was more look-through her. She was not a person to him anymore, but a means to an end, to satisfy his madness. Hermione knew her life was coming to an end.

He took her down once more, longer this time, “CRUCIO!” and Hermione felt her strength die,  _ little Scorpio I’m sorry…Harry! _ The waves of pain drowned her, and she screamed her lungs out, shouting out his name, “DRACO!”

Lucius paused, surprised to hear his son’s name, “Do you truly think he’ll come to save you mudblood?” Squeezing her face in his hand - his fingers creasing deep into her cheeks, he forced her to stare at him, “My weak son is not coming mudblood, he can’t save you! Nobody can!”

Releasing his hold violently, her head thudded hard on the floor, and he rose to his feet, aimed his wand at her and struck her for the third time with the same curse. Between her screams, she whispered, “Draco… Harry… Krops.”

***At the manor***

The house-elf was in the kitchen preparing food for his Master and his the others when he froze, his knife midair, “Misses Hermione!” Her scream cut through his little heart, and he ran, ran as hard as his little legs let him from the kitchen to the great hall, forgetting in his haste that apparating would have been faster. He heard her call his name “Krops!” and her plea triggered his gift for tracking, he knew immediately where she was, but also that he had little time.

Bumping into Draco, he grabbed his master’s hand, the blond wizard looking surprised at him, “No time Master, Misses Hermione!” And he disapparated both away.

***Nottingham***

Seconds later, both house-elf and wizard apparated inside a dark, filthy room of an abandoned castle. None of them knew where they were, but that didn’t matter; the guttural scream coming from the basement drove them down the stairs, Draco with his wand drawn.

He didn’t waste a moment and slammed his father hard against the wall with a perfectly aimed “Expulso”. Crouching on one knee to press a hand against Hermione’s face, but rose to his feet a second later, anger running hot in his veins, and he commanded the elf, “Krops, watch over her!”

He closed in on his father, threatening - who was confused by the initial attack, “Father, I’m going to make you pay!” Returning the favour, Draco aimed a long red crucio light at the man that once was his hero, “For every moment you made her suffer, you bastard.” Renewing the curse, he took the revenge he sought, for every day he lived in agony, for every second of pain Draco knew Hermione had endured, for the feelings of distress and failure brought upon him, wishing he could do more than sit and wait.

Shoving the wand away in his pocket, he grabbed his father by the throat, suffocating the man with an iron grip, “I am… going… to… kill… you.”

“You don’t have the balls son. You have to mean it, and you are a weak piece of shit.”

Shoving the older man hard against the wall, Draco let a sinister smile, “Weak? Do you accuse me of insufficient intention? Let me, for once, not disappoint you, Father.”

The noise of cracking bone sounded loud through the cellar, as Draco pushed Lucius violently against the wall once more. Holding the old wizard at arm’s length, Draco aimed his wand right on the crease between both eyebrows, his cold grey eyes locked into a familiar pair red-rimmed one, “Watch me and my intent.”

Redrawing a step back, he shouted, “Avada Kedavra!” A thud noise followed.

Stopping for a second to regain his composure, he turned around and ran to Hermione, who was whimpering, “Love, Hermione I’m here, he’s gone, he can’t hurt you anymore.” Facing the house-elf, he asked urgently, “Take us back to the manor, Krops.”

“Krops can’t, Master.” The bottom lip of the elf trembled, “Baby is coming, Master, if we leave now bad things could happen to Misses and baby, Master.”

“Can you plea-” Hermione’s hand grabbed his underarm as a contraction ran through her, while she screamed hoarsely, “Hermione, oh love, breathe…” Supporting her with an arm behind her back he tried to help her ride throughout the pain.  “… Breathe love, that’s it.” Pleading to the elf, he asked, “Krops what do we do now?”

“We help Misses Hermione have baby, then Krops brings Misses, baby and Master to Manor.”

“But I don’t know how to… I mean our baby is coming and I…” he ran a hand through his fingers frantically for a second, but somehow his common sense kicked in, and he started to think logical, “Krops bring that mattress here, clean it!” Caressing Hermione, he kissed her gently, “I love you, Hermione, we’ll do this together, and I am not leaving you alone, try to be strong love, for Scorpio and me.” She moaned weakly, smiling watery at him, “Draco…”

Scooping her up, he laid her gently on the clean mattress, transforming a rag into a pillow for under her head. Clueless about the next move he looked at her, but soon a new contraction rose, and he grabbed her hand, “Breathe Hermione, go with the wave love, squeeze my hand…” 

Krops kneeling on the other side of Hermione copied the hand gesture, but was soon whimpering from the pain as Hermione had his hand in a vice-hold grip, “auw… auw… auw…” As the wave came to a rest, the elf shook his hand to free it from the pain and tore apart a piece of his pillowcase he wore to wipe the few drops of sweat from her forehead, under the grateful stare of Draco.

But the contractions followed faster one after the other, the cruciatus spell a trigger that sped up the development of the labour, and soon Hermione whispered, “I need to push.” 

Draco felt the colour drain out his face in panic but regained his wits fast and dropped to his knees between Hermione’s legs undressing her. The bloody sight made him gulp a few times, “Get a grip Malfoy, your wife needs you!” His wife needed him now more than ever, and he forced himself to calm down the urge to vomit and be a man.

Working together, man and elf helped Hermione through her pain, guiding her as much as they could and knew. Soon Draco saw his son crowning, and with the help of the next contraction he aided his wife give birth to his son, “It’s almost done love, just one more push or two.” He heard her “hmm, hmm” and a minute or two later she caved into a new wave of pain pushing nearly the whole body out, which after Draco gently pulled the little legs out.

Smiling through his tears, he laid the baby on her belly. He still sensed her last contraction to eject the placenta, but the cord got adequately taken care of thanks to an elf intervention. Murmuring a thank you to Krops, he faced Hermione, caressing his son and her face with bloody hands, “He’s beautiful love, tiny but beautiful.”

She returned his joy with a weak pull of her lips, stroking through the fluff of blond hair on her newborn with a weak fingertip, “Scorpio.” Staring at the face of the man she loved, she whispered, “I love you, I knew you would come.” Her words were interrupted by a loud baby cry, their son angry for being pulled out his mummy’s belly into the cold air of this nasty place. 

Realizing their son was naked, Draco yanked at his black shirt from his body and enveloped the small nugget smirking, “He owns a good pair of lungs for his size.”

Closing in on Hermione with the little bundle he kissed her softly on her lips, “It’s time to go home love, let’s get away from this place.”

Nodding she raised a hand to touch her son’s head one more time but dropped it with a sigh, her face turning away limp.

Alarmed, Draco shouted, “Hermione! Hermione, wake up! Love!”


	22. Every Second counts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Old chapter 18, for my longtime followers.

##  **Chapter 22: Every second counts.**

 

“Hermione! Hermione wake up! Love!” Shaking on her shoulder with one hand, he panicked. Her face pale white, unresponsive. Limp. 

A small hand entered his sight field, “Master Draco, we need to leave fast. Misses Hermione’s life force is dying out.” The face of the elf with his pointy ears, and big red eyes pleaded to act fast, “Master, Krops will hold little Master Scorpio, master takes misses, and Krops will bring us all to the manor.”

Shaking his head, Draco denied, “Not the Manor Krops, straight to St. Mungo’s, can you do that?”

Nodding, Krops reached his little arms out for Scorpio, holding the newborn with extreme care in his embrace; Draco scooped Hermione from the mattress, panic running ice-cold in his veins when her head fell limp over his arm. In seconds the elf apparated them into St. Mungo’s upon which Draco shouts desperate for a healer.

He laid Hermione on a gurney and saw her disappear surrounded by a team of healers, not registering the one asking him urgent questions; it was until the man shook hard on his arm that he reacted and sneered, “What?”

“Mr. Malfoy, can you tell us what she had to endure? And please ask your elf to hand over the baby, to allow one of the neonatal healers to check on his health.” Krops was shielding the baby from all those unknown people.

Softly Draco ordered the elf, “Krops, they mean good Krops, please hand over Scorpio to them, he needs help too.” Reluctant the house-elf transferred Scorpio into the arms of the awaiting healer, his gaze warning the man to not hurt his young master or else… In the meantime Draco gave a relay over what he thought to know about Hermione’s injuries, “She has endured at least one cruciatus curse that I know of, and we all suspect that she was forced to drink the despair draught.”

The healer stared wide-eyed, “The Emerald potion? And… possibly multiple curses? It’s a miracle she’s still alive.” Sighing the man inquired, “The baby when was he born?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Draco closed his eyes, “Just now…” he turned around to the elf and pleaded, “Krops could you please warn the others that we are here?” Returning to the healer, Draco solicited, “Can you take me to her please?”

Motioning the blond wizard to follow him, the healer led him to one of the ER’s booths where a whole team of healers administered potions and spells to heal Hermione back, the tension rising by the minute; she remained unconscious with no sign of improvement. Updating the staff with what he learned from Draco, many of them gasping in horror, the Head healer ordered a series of treatments. Emergencies were their daily routine, but this time, the odds were terrible, and Hermione’s condition affected them all. 

Draco watched, frozen, his chest still bare,  _ I just got her back _ . One of the nurses approached him, “ Mr. Malfoy follow me please, you can wash your hands and face here.” Absent he did as told, scrubbing his hands with rough brushes to wash the blood away, splashing his face with ice cold water, as if it would wake him up from this living nightmare.

Minutes later he felt a pair of arms surrounding him, cradling his head in the crease of her neck. He recognised the soft flower perfume his mother loved to use, and he allowed himself to break, sobbing while her hands held his head tenderly against her shoulder. Both Malfoy’s desperate, their name and their money couldn’t save her, and for the first time in their lives they felt powerless, mother whispering in her son’s ear, “She’s a fighter son, Hermione is strong, and she’s fighting.”

“You didn’t see him assault her the way I did, Mother…” he relived those minutes of sheer terror, “He was going to kill her, her and our son… they were dispensable. Why? What has Hermione done to him to deserve this fate?”

“I don’t know son, but right now we need to be strong for her.” Stroking away some stray strings of blond hair, she looked deep into his eyes, “Your father…”

“Dead.” Ice cold voice, “I killed him.”

Narcissa stared into the distance, breathing shallow, “I guess I buried my husband the moment he flew away from our home, the man I saw return wasn’t the great man I married, he was someone else.” She gulped, aiming to control her emotions; Malfoy’s didn’t shatter in public, “Come son, I didn’t come alone.”

“Mother, I need to stay here…”

“Let the healers do their jobs properly, you’re only on their way here. If something changes, I’m sure they’ll come after you.” She held his hand and forced him to follow; Draco being engulfed by Harry and the others, all anxious to know what the hell had happened. He briefed everyone leaving only the details of the labour out of his relay, “Harry I don’t care if I’ll be sent to Azkaban, but I killed the motherfucker, and I’m not sorry for it.”

A hand landed on Draco’s shoulder, “Draco, this is a clear case of self-defence, you were protecting your wife. If the Wizengamot wants to sue you for this, then we all will show those old bats where they shove their case into. You have my word, no harm will be done to you this time.” Harry stared into Draco’s eyes, his gaze full of empathy, “You did nothing I wouldn’t have done if it had been Ginny. Don’t feel guilty if you can, you need to be a strong man. Hermione needs your strength. Where’s your son?”

“I believe a neonatologist healer took him away, we don’t know to which extent the curses have affected Scorpio.”

“Scorpio?” A soft smile showed on Harry’s face. “I like it.”

“Yes, from Scorpius, continuing the family tradition is a Malfoy thing…” a sob was closer than a smirk on Draco’s face, raising his gaze to the ceiling to regain control. Before he knew he found himself inside of a pair of warm arms, belonging to Molly Weasley, “How is she? And your baby, son?” Rising his face to meet hers, she caressed his features as it was something she did to him regularly, “She’s strong you know? Resilient, I bet my heart that she’s in there fighting for both of you. Our Hermione is a lioness.” It was not evident to Draco if she was talking only to him or to both of them at the same time.

They waited for hours, Arthur dozing off against Molly’s shoulder while Narcissa kept an arm over Draco’s shoulders. Ginny cradled on Harry’s lap, the wizard caressing her womb absently both with eyes closed. They formed the sight of a family where blood bonds didn’t matter. Love prevailed, united in the worry for the woman who fought to survive.

A grasp of a throat had them all awake in a whim, the stern look from the Head healer looking down on Draco, who rose to his feet at once, “Mr. Malfoy, we did all we could…” Draco’s heart missed a few beats, fearing the worst, “but at this point, all we can do is wait. She has fallen into a coma; we guess her own body shut down to heal her at its own pace. She’s stable for now, we moved her to a room so you can visit her.”

“Any guess of how long it will take?” Draco’s demeanour was losing its energy.

“Hard to say, it’s beyond our hand, we are easing her pain with potions, we don’t see any visible wounds and nothing residual has remained behind concerning the labour. But only Mrs. Malfoy can decide when she’s ready to return. Could be days, weeks…” The soft voice of the healer very little room for misunderstanding.

“Or never?” Letting his head fall, Draco dreaded on that possibility.

“Yes-.” A nurse came running in a composed panic attitude, “ Mr. Malfoy,” nodding at Draco, “Healer McTavish, we have a problem.” Signalling to Draco with her eyes, she continued, “He refuses to eat.”

“Nurse, elaborate more, please, who refuses to eat?” The healer insisted, demanding from his subsidiary more details, “Baby Malfoy sir, the baby refuses to eat. We have tried different baby formulas, but he denies food, we can’t calm him down. He’s been crying for the past 2 hours, sir.”

“My son is crying, and you don’t say a thing to me?” Draco’s desperation quickly changed into light anger.

“I’m sorry Mr. Malfoy, protocol says…” stammered the nurse. Turning to the healer, his face red, Draco snarls, “Fuck your protocol, take me to him!” The nurse is about to retort, but the raised finger and an “Uh, uh!” shut her mouth. She scurries back to her ward followed by a train of concerned grandmothers preceded by a resolute walking father who sped up the pace when he recognised the angry shrieks of his son. 

Scorpio’s face was blood red, eyes squeezed shut, his little mouth wide open, waving wild his small arms and legs, despite the efforts from another nurse to calm him down. Acting instinctively, Draco scooped his son a bit clumsy at first and growled after a bottle. Taking a seat he tried to lure Scorpio into drinking, his mother and Molly giving him advice, but alas the newborn refused stubbornly to accept the piece of rubber and kept crying his little lungs out.

No soothing words, nor knee bouncing helped to calm the little nugget down, and both nurses and healers looked at each other, clueless. “Oh bloody hell, really? You don’t know what to do? Is this the future of the wizard health departments?” Molly raised her voice indignant, “What happened to respect and employ the use of the ancient ways? Son, Draco, listen to me, I know a way, but I’ll need your help for this.” Her soft hand on his chin forced him to face her.

“Do you mean a wet nurse?” He asked reluctantly, but Molly shook her head and calmed him, “No, you’ll see.” The Weasley matriarch barked orders to the healer, “Take us to Hermione’s room.” When the reaction took too long in coming she snarled, “Now!”

The three plus the newborn and a nurse walked to the room where Hermione was resting, the unconscious woman unaware of the turmoil entering her space. Molly pointed the finger at the door and added a nod with her chin, showing the nurse the way out, her presence now unwanted. Turning to a panicking Draco, who held a very angry Scorpio in his arms, she spoke again in her softest tone, “Draco, we’ll work with a technique that midwives used to employ when the mothers are too exhausted to feed the baby’s themselves. Do you give me permission to try it?” 

Draco somehow trusted the insight of mother Weasley and nodded in acknowledgement. Laying Hermione on her right side, Molly opened a series of buttons from Hermione’s blouse carefully, uncovering a breast and releasing it from its bra confinement before she gestured to Draco to approach. “Son, hand over me the baby please.” Somehow Scorpio sensed what was coming and had gone quiet, waiting; Molly aligned the newborn with Hermione at nipple height and with a small nudge she heard the baby latch on the nub and sigh.

Molly looked up with a soft smile to Draco, who mirrored her smile with a tear in the corner of his eyes. A sob from the other side of the bed surprised the older woman. Narcissa covered her mouth with a hand, feeling drowned by emotions. Molly explained, “Normally the midwives do this when new mothers are too exhausted from labour to do this themselves. I guess that Scorpio somehow only wants his mummy to feed him.” Draco just nodded, unable to speak, “We’ll have to feed him at least every three hours, and we mustn’t forget to change sides after 5 minutes to release the pressure.” Molly was lecturing them in the science of breastfeeding, guessing that Narcissa didn’t feed Draco, “The last thing Hermione can use now is an inflamed bosom due to gland blockage.”

After nursing from the other side, Molly handed the little bundle over to his father kissing the baby on its blond head, “There you go Mister Scorpio.” Upon which she covered Hermione decent again. 

Narcissa thanked her, “I cannot express my gratitude, Mrs. Weasley.”

“Well, thank me by calling me Molly, we’ll be seeing each other often I believe, we need to be less formal.” Mother Weasley cooed at the baby, but frowned again, “He’s restless.” Opening the door, she shouted out, “Bring us a nappy!”

Scorpio’s unsettled state still bothered both grandmothers and his father, even after a nappy change, his small bum now dry and clean. Narcissa wondered, “Molly, what could be the reason now?”

Sighing, the older woman pondered, “He must have suffered from all those curses and potions, the poor little guy.” Stroking the baby softly over his head - Draco murmuring to his son - she thought out loud, “He could be feeling unsafe. Needing of comfort-” Fixing her gaze with his, she told him determined, “Let your mother hold the baby for a second.” She paid no attention to the trade, focusing on a comfortable recliner conjuring out of a chair and requested, “Take your shirt off and sit down, son,” Draco followed her orders undressing of the shirt he received from Krops a while ago, “Narcissa, will you please undress the baby? Keep only the nappy on, please.” Mother Malfoy frowned in return, but Molly explained, “He is premature and is feeling insecure, I guess the torments his Mummy experienced have made him more nervous than he should. Skin contact brings him safety and comfort.” 

The logical explanation resonated with Narcissa, and she undressed Scorpio down to his nappy, as gently as possible, though his red face was a warning that he was running on a short fuse. She took him softly in her hands again and set him on Draco’s bare chest, the young father covering his son with his big hands immediately.

“Scorpio will recognise your voice, Draco. You are at this point his only steady rock in his little life.” She conjured a warm blanket and covered father and son. “I’ll be returning within three hours, to help you with the next feed. But I think with this kangaroo care and nursing him from Hermione, that we will finally bring some peace back to that sweet baby of yours. The nugget can use it, I’m sure of it. Just owl me if you need me, okay?”

She left Hermione’s room with a burden less on her heart, shooing everyone away to their homes with the promise to owl them if something changed in Hermione’s state.

Narcissa whispered, “Do you want me to stay?” Draco shook his head, staring at Hermione, “No mother, go home and rest. I might need your help, and you’ll be able to help me better if you aren’t tired. I’ll send Krops to you if I need anything.” He spoke without taking his eyes off Hermione, “She has to come back to me, mother. What will I do without her?”

“We need to have faith, son.” She murmured, drawing a soft smile from Draco, “Mother that’s a very muggle thing to say. Yeah, I hope her God listens to our pleas mother, I truly hope.”


	23. White Clouds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> previously chapter 19

##  **Chapter 23: White clouds**

 

Father and son doze off in each other’s company until a restless newborn gave all the signs of a hungry tummy. Remembering Molly’s every step, Draco didn’t await the presence of mother Weasley and handled gently all that was needed be to satisfy his son’s needs. The view was a heartbreaking one, the blond man with his bare alabaster chest seating in a small corner of the mattress, holding his son and caressing his wife’s face. 

It was the sight Molly came to witness moments after the side switch Draco just performed.  _ Who knew? This aristocratic man, raised to believe everyone beneath him, was underneath all those layers a caring soul,  _ she thought to herself, _ this is what love does to a man, Hermione has a decent one in her hands after all. _ She walked to him, stroking his head - startling him with her presence - and checked if everything had gone well. Satisfied, she taught him to change a nappy, chuckling when the little baby sprayed his father as every boy tends to do, “Draco this is why no one uncovers a baby boy before you have everything at hand, son.” Drying his face with a towel, he smirked, “I will not forget again.”

Molly left shortly after that he promised to send the elf if he needed anything. Draco returned to the recliner and laid back at peace, his son splayed over his chest - peacefully asleep under the warm blanket. The young father stared at his newborn contemplating the light tuft of hair so blond you barely could see it, little grey eyes now squinting shut, the pale complexion of his skin and the most perfect pink lips he had ever seen, lips that were always in motion as if he was sucking on a pacifier. This little human being laying naked apart from his tiny nappy was cuddling on Draco’s bare chest, little fists closed, legs pulled up, breathing calmly in and out.

Draco wondered what the little nugget was thinking, his face changing between smiling, frowning or at peace. His hand stroked Scorpio’s back without falter, while the other held his little bum up. He murmured to his son, “Hi there little one, I’m your Daddy, but you know that don’t you? I’ll be the one who’ll teach you how to fly, how to tie your shoes. I will hold your hands while you take your first steps, teach you all about Quidditch.” His lips rested Scorpio’s head, taking in the smell of talc powder and that innocent baby smell, “I’ll be your best buddy, your big hero and I will always protect you. I almost failed you once, but it won’t happen again. I promise.” Looking up to Hermione’s face, so peaceful in sleep, he kept talking at his son, “Over there is your mummy, she’s your hero too. I can’t imagine how much she had to endure, but she fought hard to keep you safe Scorpio. She’s an amazing witch, and ours to keep. We just need to have some patience until mummy is strong enough to come back, before we can be all together again, our own little family. She needs to rest much, but your mummy is the best mum in the world, son, the smartest one too.” Rubbing his cheek on the baby’s hair he kept talking, “She’ll probably read you all those muggle books that even  _ I _ don’t know about, or maybe be bossy when we eat too many cookies, you and me together.” Sighing he closed his eyes, “She’s the best mummy in the world and the best wife I could have wished for. I love her and you will so too.”

-oOo-

Draco woke up to the smell of a fresh mug of coffee his mother had brought, setting the cup down on the table next to him, “Son how was the night?” Stretching as much as he could without startling Scorpio, he sipped from the hot mug, pleased with the overly sugared dark blend, “He woke up two times to feed. Molly came during the first to show me how to change the nappy, and the second I managed to do all on my own.” He chuckled proudly, “and this time I wasn’t blessed wet!”

Narcissa smirked, “You did that countless times to your father until he was fed up with being wet by you and left the dirty work to elves.” Her smile faded as the memory flashed of her deceased husband in their happier moments; darkness showed on her face. She dismissed it away, refraining from mourning in front of her son and grandson, not with her daughter-in-law still recovering from Lucius’ brutal attack. 

“Draco, why don’t you go home, take a shower, and put on some clean clothes, son. You’ll feel better, with renewed energy. In the meantime, I’ll watch over them.” He hesitated for a second, “Don’t worry son, I paid attention to Molly’s actions, and if the baby needs to eat I’ll tend to it with care. You can trust me.” She laid a hand on his arm, “I might not have been the warmest mother to you, but your son needs security, and I will not disappoint you nor him. Now go home and return fast, but not too fast.”

Draco nodded and disapparated to the Manor after watching his mother claim his seat on the recliner and remove almost all her clothing to a light chemise, letting Scorpio rest on her bosom. The gesture surprised Draco the most, as he never saw his mother this undressed before.

At the Manor, he followed his mother’s shower advice, washing his body roughly before he allowed the spray of warm water soothed his worries. So much happened in the past twenty-four hours, the adrenaline and despair in his veins kept him going, but now alone, he allowed himself to break, sliding down to the bottom of the bath, and rest his head on his braced arms, elbows on his pulled-up knees. He had killed his father without a second thought, without remorse. And he would do it all over again. He had brought his son to this world and watched his wife nearly die. In the end, there’s so much a man can bear until it’s too much; he sobbed in solitude letting it all escape till he was spent.

After some time, Draco couldn’t tell if it had been five or ten minutes or even twenty; he rose to his feet, shut the flux of water down and got himself ready to return to his son and wife. He was a renewed man, one that had grieved and let go, prepared to move on and be the strong man his Hermione needed him to be.

Krops made him a small plate of sandwiches and grabbing a few on his way out, he returned back to St. Mungos.

-oOo-

The room was more crowded than when he left it, Molly came back with Harry and Ginny in tow, all cooing and admiring the newest addition to the Malfoy family – Draco noticed his mother was fully dressed, Lady Malfoy once again. Harry faced him with a broad smile on his face, though he spoke in a soft voice, “He’s adorable, so tiny but an adorable nugget. My congratulations, Draco.”

Nodding Draco accepted the good wishes, startled by an unexpected peck on his cheek from Ginny, “My kid is allowed to stay indoors for a bit longer, but your son is the cutest Malfoy I ever met.” He frowned at her in fake dismay, “Well thank you, Weaslette.”

“It’s Potterette nowadays…” soft laughter around the room, “Our Hermione must return soon to us, she’s missing all of this.” Ginny rested her head on Draco’s upper arm, upon which Draco snaked his arm around her shoulder in a light hug, “I know Ginny, I know.”

-oOo-

The day and the next two that followed flew by. There was an in and out of people visiting Scorpio, checking on Hermione, the only silent moments in the room when Draco, Narcissa or Molly shooed everyone away at feeding time. Molly and Draco had tested a new way of feeding, raising the bed to a slightly upright position instead of turning Hermione to her side every time. Now they just moved the baby to the right breast. Draco would go home once a day for a shower and a change while his mother or Molly watched over Scorpio.

***Hermione***

She looked down at herself on the bed, breathing peacefully asleep. She didn’t understand what was happening, all her surroundings covered with a white veil, viewing only herself and Draco clearly, who now slept in the recliner with Scorpio against his chest.

She walked towards them and laid a hand on Draco’s, though he didn’t feel her.  _ Am I dead? _

“No Hermione, I believe you are experiencing an out-of-body moment as they call it.” A familiar deep voice startled her, and she turned around to face a man she dearly missed, “Professor Dumbledore!” She hugged him, though their connection didn’t feel normal. “What is happening? What’s going on with me?”

“At this moment my dear, your body is recovering, you are getting stronger, with every day that passes, and soon you’ll feel ready to return.” He answered her patiently although his eyes saw more questions arising, it was Hermione after all.

“So I’m not dead?”

“No, you are very much alive, you just need to find the way to go back.”

“How do I do that? I miss them. They need me.”

“That is a question that only you will know the answer to, as it is different for everyone.”

“What happened professor? I don’t recall much… only feeling intense pain, almost unbearable.”

“Lucius lost all sanity, we will never know why I’m afraid, but in his madness, he focused on you as the reason of all evil. He tortured you quite heavy with multiple cruciatus curses and during one you called after the house-elf enabling his gift to track you down. Draco saved you, but he killed Lucius.”

“My godson took a life, for the first time in his life, despite what many may think.” The baritone voice of Severus joined their little interlude, “Draco never inflicted pain to another voluntarily during his Death Eater period, and he never killed a soul.” Dumbledore corroborated, “That’s true Severus, he acted tough but inside he was as revolted by the violence as any of us. It’s such a pity he didn't dare to ask for help, thinking that joining the dark force would be the only way to save his mother from pain.” Pausing for a second, the former head of Hogwarts continued with the relay of events. “Well, one of the cruciatus’ induced your labour and with Draco’s help…” he gestured to the baby, “but your body weakened too much, and here we are with you there, resting and gaining strength.”

“And the baby?”

Severus intervened to answer her question, “Your son is healthy aside from being premature. The Dark Lord always failed to understand, and for that matter, dark magic altogether, that love especially the love from a mother for a child is powerful and is often underestimated. Your willpower protected your son from the dark curses just like Lily’s love for Harry protected his life from Voldemort’s Avada.”

Severus observed Draco with a tender look Hermione had seldom seen, “Draco has more of Narcissa than of Lucius in him, and the proof lays right here.” He motioned towards father holding the son tight, “Lucius would never have sacrificed his precious time to have this much needed skin-to-skin contact. Would have felt above such a triviality, considering it a weakness. Your son feels insecure, and Draco is showing Scorpio that he’s safe, loved.”

“It’s true, Draco has been spending his nights like this, these past three days. He must be exhausted and feel completely drained, but I haven’t heard him complain.” Dumbledore’s warm tone full of approval for the young father.

Hermione didn’t say a word, just stared, the surroundings  clouded white; her heart, however, glowed from love. “I must go back. They need me.”

The old white-haired wizard nodded, “Indeed they do. Miss Hermione, have a happy life.”

Grasping his throat, Snape made one request, “Miss Granger, I’m sorry Mrs. Malfoy, make my godson happy. If it’s not too much to ask. It’s time this boy has some happiness in the world, to be finally the man he wants to be and not one he is required to be.”

Both wizards left her alone, without telling her how to return to her body, and she closed her eyes.

***Draco***

“Draco.” A soft whisper invaded his dreams. He smiled in his sleep.

“Draco…” That whisper was now more determined, but still weak and he mumbled: “Yes love?”

“Draco, you git, wake up.” Her voice was hoarse, she tried to wake him up, too weak to move from her bed.

“Yes, love?” He sighed again, the sound of her voice a blessing, yet he kept his eyes shut afraid his dream would vanish.

“Damn you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, you blond ferret, will you please wake up? I want to hold my son.” She nudged him with a foot, her whisper barely a half tone higher.

_ Dreams don’t nudge _ he thought and opened an eye and then  two. A pair of brown eyes stared at him, weak but lovingly. “Hermione!” Jumping from his recliner, his strong hand holding his son tight, he closed the distance and kissed her fiercely on the lips, his heart missing a few beats when he felt her respond to their embrace,. “You came back, my love. I love you, Hermione.” One more kiss before he nestled their son gently in her arms for the very first time, “Meet our son, love, our little Scorpio.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A.N: To say that I'm overwhelmed by the response to the last chapters and specifically the last one I published, it would be a light description of how I really felt reading all these reviews. Your love for this story just simply makes my heart melt.
> 
> This fic is my very first one, the difference between the first chapters versus the last ones is noticeable and if I have improved its because of you. So my well meant thank you!  
> When you receive one where you are guilty from ripping someone's heart and stomp on it than it makes my own heart stop, simply because that one reader told me she/he read my story like I wanted to tell it.
> 
> Reviews are not only love giving but also guiding, stearing us into the right light. Something that for me as a newbie in this world always was a doubt, am I writing it good and are you feeling it the way I mean it?
> 
> If you die in the next chapters, I can promise you it will be from goodness not from anguish.  
> My genuine thank you to all kudos, comments, likes, follows and etc...


	24. Becoming a Weasley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> previously chapter 20

##  **Chapter 24: Becoming a Weasley.**

  
She couldn’t stop staring at that little bundle in her arms, her son’s wrinkled face with a small blond tuft of hair on his head. Her finger touched his little fingers feather light, being trapped in a tiny fist, and she chuckled softly as she faced her husband. Scorpio glared with sleepy grey eyes at the person who dared to wake him up but recognising the heartbeat of his mummy, the little baby sighed and turned his face to her bosom in search for his preferred source of food, his lips moving in a suckling motion. Hermione looked at Draco, insecure, “Draco? Can I feed him? Is he hungry?”

“Don’t worry love,” he guided her step by step, slightly uncomfortable to do it himself now she was awake, “You should start with the left breast, you are holding him in a good position. You only need to uncover your breast and let him feel your nipple around his lips. He’ll take over, Scorpio knows what to do.” 

She frowned inquisitively, “Has he been nursing from me?”

He nodded, radiating, “Our son has refused any other kind of baby formula, and teats for that matter. It is thanks to Molly’s intervention that we found the solution, she suggested to let him nurse from you and has shown me how to do it.” Listening intently to what he said, Hermione opened enough buttons from her nightshirt, uncovering her breast and nudged the baby to latch, something the baby didn’t need to be told twice. The light sting she felt, was the sign that the baby was drinking correctly.

Draco filled her in, “We have been taking turns every three hours, me, my mother and Molly, it was all we could do to make him eat. We tried to sweet-talk him into drinking from the bottle, but he’s stubborn.” He smirked, “I think the Malfoy only-the-best attitude mixed with your Gryffindor stubbornness is giving us trouble from the start.” He looked at them, mesmerised, caressing his son’s cheek, and her hand whom laid on the baby’s shoulder while he supported his chin with his other hand, elbow pressing on the mattress. The relief was immense, his most profound wish finally came to reality.

He guided her through the side switch, and after the baby was fed, he changed the nappy feeling proud of another spray-free session, “Scorpio made sure I was blessed the very first time I’ve changed him, but I told him “Buddy, once but not twice!”

Hermione was utterly taken aback by this Draco version, a proud father, not afraid of a task. She fell in love with him all over, the git attitude was replaced by an adorably cute cooing demeanour; something she would not believe unless watched with her own eyes; she was sure no one would. And yet, here he was, surprising her.

He returned the baby to her, “I have to warn the healer's love, let them check you out before I call in the troops. Everyone is anxious to see you.” Ensuring Hermione could hold the weight of the baby before releasing him, he left the room and returned shortly after with a nurse in tow while Head healer McTavish was being paged.

Scorpio didn’t like much to be taken away from the familiar heartbeat and complained softly, though his dad’s voice soothed him straight away; the nurse removed the baby away from Hermione into Draco’s embrace after she entered the room. Head healer McTavish and his assistant ran several tests and spells the outcome utterly satisfying for all parties. Hermione only needed rest at this point, time to heal. Her body levels were returning to normal, eventual side effects remained undetected for now.

Draco called the house-elf, “Krops, would you please inform my mother, Harry Potter and Molly Weasley that Hermione has woke up?”

The elf froze in place, his big eyes filled with tears and he covered his mouth with his hands to muffle a sob, as he spoke, “Misses Hermione better now?” Stepping cautiously closer, sobbing louder, “Krops very happy, Misses. Krops wish very hard for Misses healing. Krops very sad when Misses fell asleep and didn’t wake up.” Several tears dropped from his cheeks. 

Hermione patted on the bed, “Come closer Krops.”

The elf climbed on the bed, dipping his eyes on a corner of his pillow-case; Hermione stroked the elf’s head gently, “I think I haven’t thanked you yet for helping Draco save my life.” Krops nodded with bowed head, and Hermione placed a hand gently under his chin to raise his face to meet hers, “Have you met Scorpio?”

Draco filled her in, smiling softly, “He carried Scorpio while he apparated us here, love. He refused to hand over the baby to the healers, acting as Scorpio’s exclusive bodyguard.” 

She thanked the elf, “Then I am much grateful for all your help, Krops,” smiling gratefully at him.

Snivelling, Krops nodded and dropped out of the bed, “Krops will tell everyone, that Misses is awake,” and disappeared seconds later.

Hermione faced Draco, “I guess I haven’t thanked you either, have I?”

He kissed her lips, “Saving you was all that mattered, I cannot go back to a life without you in it Hermione. You don’t have to thank me. You mean the world to m-”

The door flew open, and Molly barged in followed by Ginny, Harry and Arthur, “My dear, you came back to us. I never lost hope, I knew you would fight…” Holding Hermione’s face in both her hands, Molly stroked Hermione’s hair, her cheeks and staring her straight in the eye, ensuring herself that it wasn’t a dream. “We were all so desperate, not knowing where you were if you were safe, and when Draco found you, we feared you wouldn’t survive…” Her hands touched the younger witch nonstop, “But we must look forward now, you gave birth to a beautiful son, my dear. He’s quite stubborn that little one, only his mummy is good enough…” Molly smiled through her tears but got gently pulled back by her husband, “Molly, allow Harry to say hello too. Hermione, my lovely daughter, welcome back.” Arthur nodded at the brunette, receiving a smile in return. The Weasley pair traded places with the younger couple.

Harry stared at Hermione, his face showing relief, overjoyed, “Hi, Sis.” His hand stroking her cheek gently, as he didn’t dare to hug her.

“Hello Harry, Hi Ginny.” 

“We are both so happy to see you, we missed those brown eyes so much.” Ginny kissed Hermione’s cheek feather lightly first, but caved in and hugged the brunette tightly.

“Me too Ginny, Harry. I’m glad that the worst is behind us now…” She got interrupted by the entrance of Narcissa, surprised to see the older woman look at her so intensely, genuine relief shining in her eyes at the sight of Hermione smiling again. Draco rose from his place on the side of her bed to make room for his mother to approach.

Narcissa closed in, in silence, but the otherwise collected witch shattered. Caving into her anxiety, apparently not even caring that others saw it happen, “Hermione, I feared so hard that we lost you.” She quickly sat down, using the place Draco had vacated and pulled Hermione gently in her arms, cradling Hermione’s face into her shoulder. Five pairs of eyes got wet as they watched Narcissa break; Draco laid a hand on his mother’s shoulder, comforting while he was holding the baby with his other arm.

“Mother…” He had never watched his mother this distressed before.

Drying her tears, she willed herself to compose and raised to her feet. “I know, we must not overcrowd you Hermione, you need to rest.” Sighing deeply she fought for control, “I’m just so relieved that you are back in our midst, it has been the most difficult few days of our lives.” Narcissa turned to Draco and embraced both son and grandson, “We can be a family again.” Kissing her son on his forehead, she faced the Weasley’s, “I would like to consider you part of our family. We’ve been through this together and for Hermione’s sake, and mine, I would consider it an honour.”

Arthur approached Narcissa with an extended hand, “Welcome to the Weasley family, Narcissa.” 

Draco and Hermione glanced at each other, sharing an unsaid thought, his eyebrow raised in a seconds’ movement,  _ Ron and he family? _ He did look different now at the ginger heads. He would never forget how they had closed ranks during this troubling period, and felt grateful for all what Molly did, treating him like a son and in the meantime helping him with Scorpio. 

The Weasley family and Harry stayed a bit longer, cooing over Scorpio who decided not to budge under so much admiration. Ginny and Harry joked about how the newest Malfoy member and their own baby would be partners in crime at mischief, eager for their own little nugget to be born, though Harry mentioned to Ginny’s belly, “No fuss buddy, no need to rush, stay indoors for a bit longer.”

When they left, Draco confessed, “Bite me in the arse, but I never thought to consider the gingers my family, Mother. It will take a while to adjust, and don’t expect me to call the Weasel rat my brother.”

“Draco, your language!” Reprimanding, Narcissa looked him sternly in the eye, “I don’t expect you to call him and his brothers anything like it, but we cannot forget what they did for us. And we have a debt towards this family, son. A debt we can only repay by treating them as one of us, the Malfoy family has always been loyal to those who are good to us.”

His hand rubbed his face, “I know Mother, I know.”

“Hermione, I have lost my husband, I almost lost my daughter too. I cannot thank the mighty wizards and Merlin enough for bringing you back to us. It will take time for me to heal but to have you back in my life is a gift. And our little Scorpio is our biggest blessing.” She placed a kiss on Hermione’s head, turning to Draco and to the baby to do the same, “Though I will only be at peace once you both are again under my roof. Now I’ll leave you, please get some rest.” She left them seconds later.

Hermione’s face looked tired, but she faced the wizard next to her with a broad smile, “Let me hold him, Draco.” He placed Scorpio gently in her arms, but couldn’t resist inquiring her about her smile, “What is that smart mind of yours thinking about?”

“Just thinking how your mother will survive Christmas at the Burrow…” Her twinkle smile lit her face with impish glee, “ And you…”

He shook his head, staring straight into her twinkling eyes; her comment related to the chaos in the Weasley’s house slid by. She had returned to him and damn if he wouldn’t move heaven and earth to keep her safe and make her feel loved. That smile on her face was one he always wanted to see displayed on her features. No mountain too high, no ocean ever too deep; her welfare and that of their son was his main priority from now on.  _ Thank you, Merlin, for bringing her back to me _ .


	25. Starting a New.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The newest chapter for AO3
> 
> Allow me to express my gratitude to Marlgrl94 for beta'ing this huge fic. And to Lana, thank you for your help with the first chapter.

##  **Chapter 25: Starting a new.**

 

Healer McTavish kept her in his ward for a week longer. Monitoring her healing process and how the newborn developed, much to her chagrin. She grew tired of the “How do we feel today?” from nurses and Healers, seething to Draco this morning, “How the hell do I know how THEY feel?” He smiled condescending but redrew it instantly when she stared at him furiously, “Draco, I just want to go home.”

He stretched his frame sideways next to her in bed, turning her chin towards his face, “I know.” She got stronger with the coming days, the pale colour had been replaced by a healthy complexion, her eyes now sparkling full of life, though at this very point it was more annoyance.

The stirring of Scorpio on her chest demanded her attention, and she pulled her body into a more comfortable sitting position, getting ready to feed their nugget, “Someone’s hungry again. Just a second sweetie.” Feeding him became her second nature, and the baby’s weight improvement was rewarding. He was now more sturdy, according to Draco and the first attempts at sleeping in a nursery bed successful, though the man confessed missing the contact.

She had forced him to enlarge her bed on the second night, and he now slept  with her, mostly her over him surrounded by his arms. But a hospital room was not their quarters at the Manor, and she missed their privacy.

“How do we feel today, Mrs. Malfoy?” The handsome face of Healer McTavish peeked through the door, and Hermione answered snarky, “I don’t know, you tell me.” At the same time, Draco motioned, waving his arm, “Don’t ask her that.”

“Excuse  my curiosity, Hermione. I promise not to do it again. I hope,” chuckling. The witch didn’t give him a seconds rest, “When will I be discharged?”

“Hermione, we need to monitor you,” his complacent tone was not appreciated, “Your son needs…”

“Do you have any medical reason to keep us here, or is it essentially out of precaution?” Draco followed the conversation but didn’t intervene.  _ If Hermione felt healthy enough to return to their home, who was he to say no? _ His wife grew impatient from the Healers’ reluctance, shooting him glares while changing the nursing baby from side, “Well, Healer McTavish?”

“I guess that we can let you go if you promise to return at any sign of aggravation.” The frantic nodding from Hermione along with Draco’s extensive smirk closed the deal, “You have my permission to leave today when you feel ready.”

The blond wizard stretched his arms above his head after he stepped out of the bed, “I know what to do, then,” Kissing his wife softly on the lips, “Give me an hour and I’ll return to take you home.”

He apparated at the Manor, calling for his mother and Krops, “Mother, good morning. Krops, will you make sure everything is ready for Hermione’s return?”

His mother stared at him, surprised, “Is she finally coming home?” His shoulders shook with his laughter, “I guess McTavish had no more balls to say no. You know Hermione when she’s determined to have it her way.” He joined her for a cup of coffee, pondering, “My son under my roof, finally.” A plate of his favourite biscuits appeared magically next to him, and he shifted his gaze at a broad smiling Krops, “Krops much happy to serve little master Scorpio. Krops not scared of dirty nappies.”

“Will you say the same, when he crawls around being naughty?”  _ His day could not go wrong, _ thought Draco, especially when the elf remarked, “If he has anything like you, Master when you were a toddler…” Narcissa snickered, “The elf is right, Draco, you did quite a number when you were little.” The wizard grabbed a pair of biscuits on his way back to St. Mungos, “Is everything ready for Hermione’s arrival?”

Bowing to his master, the elf confirmed, “Yes, Master Draco, it has been for quite a while.”

“Mother, I’ll return in a few.”

“Wait, son!” Clueless, Draco waited, “Wait before you go, I’m going to give you some clothes for Hermione.”

He smacked his forehead with a hand palm, “Merlin, I didn’t think of that. I still need you, Mother.” Moments later, she handed him a tote bag with some garments. “I’m glad you know it.” Her thumb ran through his cheek, “A new start.” 

In a blurry move, Draco hugged his mother, “I love you.” He was eager to bring his wife back home, “See you in a few, Mother.”

Upon his return from St. Mungos, he was dumbstruck. There was an arrival committee of elves waiting for them at the Floo hearth, all nicely clothed in bright white pillowcases. Krops even held a pink rose in his hand, his big eyes beaming at Hermione, “For Misses Hermione, welcome home.”

“Oh, well, Krops, how thoughtful of you.” She kissed him on his head and found herself surrounded by the elves, all so curious for a first glance at the newest family member. She uncovered the baby face, and a series of oh’s and ah’s was heard. She exchanged a glance with Draco, who smiled gratified, “He has more fans than you, Draco.”

“There’s no competition, I know that I’ve been surpassed by that cuteness you hold.” His mother scrapped her throat, “It has been a whole day since I’ve held my grandson. I’m experiencing withdrawal effects.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “We can’t have that now, can we Draco?” Both witches met each other in the middle, and the bundle in the blanket changed from a pair of arms, Hermione placing a soft kiss on Narcissa’s cheek, “I’ve missed our tea’s together.”

Krops suggested, “If you wish, Mistress, we can have it all set up in a matter of seconds, it’s a lovely sunny day outside.” Draco nodded, “We can place a heat bubble around Scorpio, to keep him warm.”

Hermione sought his embrace, “Let us do it.” He held her tight against him, a warm feeling invading his heart from feeling her inside his arms again and placed a loud kiss on her lips, “Your wish is my command.”

“I bet you will regret those words.”

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been a whole time away from this fic, because I knew several things: back in november I've rushed the storyline too much and I've always regret it. So I put it on hold, polished it until I was satisfied by giving their path more body, starting from being paired until they fell in love. Then Lana started the beta work, Marlee took over and I didn't want to update as long as the full beta job wasn't finished.
> 
> From now on, I'll try to give you again weekly a new chapter. I'm good to go! Thank you for not losing the faith in this story, I'll finish it.


	26. When it  All Seems Okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Saturday must become Five Years day.
> 
> My Marlygrl94 did again a terrific job, polishing my mistakes!

##  **Chapter 26: When it all seems okay.**

 

One owl, that’s all it took. 

One owl, that’s all it took to turn the peaceful Manor into the Wiltshire's version of the Burrow. 

Draco sent a note to Harry to warn him of Hermione’s relocation. In return, Harry asked permission to floo into their home, in his name and on behalf of the Weasley clan, which of course was granted out of gratitude.

In less than ten minutes, every single member of the Weasley family came over to admire the little Scorpio and to see Hermione in a different setting. Krops ran like a headless chicken, busy to cater every guest with drinks and finger food, which ended with an extensive brunch in the gardens, following Narcissa's request.

Scorpio didn't budge under the attention, napping peacefully in the crib, and only making himself known for food and a clean nappy. The diaper changes turned into a little back and forth between Draco, who stood up to do the job and Krops, eager to attend to the little Master's needs. In the end, Draco won the dispute, and the pouting elf retreated mumbling.

The house-elf’s behaviour was out of the ordinary; Arthur brought it their attention, after seeing the elf make a beeline for the crib everytime he returned from the kitchen.”Watch him, Hermione.”

The whole group grinned when they saw Krops stand on his tippy toes to look into the bassinet and sigh deeply, content to see the baby sleep peacefully.

When lunch was finished, only Molly remained behind - Mother Weasley shooed everyone away to give Hermione her much needed rest. The younger witch did retreat to her chamber with husband and son and napped a bit. Draco only accompanied his wife to tuck her in and make sure his son was enjoying his kip within the cot where Draco himself slept in.

With everyone out of hearing distance, Molly addressed Narcissa, “How are you holding up?”

"Everything is quite satisfactory, now that Hermione and Scorpio have returned," Narcissa answered serenely, but this was not the answer Molly looked for.

"I know you, and I have never been friends before, we come from a different side of the community. But I think at this point, you could use a friendly ear to vent. You cannot tell your son, how it feels to lose your husband, knowing it was your son who ended his life. And I know for a fact, that you don't have any contact with Andy. So allow me to ask again. How are you holding up?" A warm hand covered another, squeezing lightly, comforting.

"I don't blame my son for Lucius' death. I understand why Draco did it. I know if it had been me who got kidnapped and tortured, Lucius would have done the same to Abraxas. Your father doesn't torture your wife or endangers the life of the grandson. In a way, it wasn't Lucius who returned, it was a stranger I've never met." A single tear ran down the blonde witches' face when she closed her eyes. "Molly, I…" Mother Weasley acted the only way she knew how hugging the other woman and offering the much-needed support.

"I can't even begin to comprehend what you're going through, Narcissa. I know you expect me to tell you to be strong, to look forward, to enjoy your grandson. And I will tell you all of this when it's time to do so. For now, you need to find closure for this whole chapter. Bury your husband, remember him as he was before he lost his mind. Reach out to your sister, she's your only relative aside from your son. You need to grieve so you can move on."

Narcissa let it all sink in, every word coming from Molly resonated with her, but she didn’t know what to say in return. She could only nod, and utter a silent thank you. 

Satisfied with the outcome - to offer a shoulder to the young widow was Molly’s intent; she left the woman behind and headed to the Floo, on her journey back home. However, a blond wizard stopped her halfway and hugged her unexpectedly.

“My debt to you grows every day. I heard every single word, and I don’t know how to thank you.” Draco spoke in a low tone, he would not cry in front of her anymore, but the emotions were dense. “You’ve helped me with my son, with my wife and now with my mother. While we did nothing to deserve your warm heart.”

"No, you didn't. But you did nothing to deserve this kind of torture either, Draco. And I'm not one to hold grudges and not reach out a hand to those who need help. It's the nature of the beast, as I tend to think. I don't turn my back on anyone." She patted him softly on the cheek. "Try to be strong for the women, Draco, though it's only human if you can't always be a tower of strength." 

-oOo-

They spent a lazy day at the Manor, now back to the three of them. Draco had communicated to Malfoy Enterprise he was going to take some time off to concentrate on the healing of his wife and demanded not to be disturbed unless it was utterly urgent.

After the first nap and feed, mother and son moved back to the gardens, the baby protected by a warmth charm. Draco transfigured one of the chairs into a comfortable recliner for Hermione, and he spent the rest of the day watching both, on the one hand memorising the sight, and on the other side fearing this was all a dream.

His mother whispered while she grasped his hand, "Would you allow me to bury your father?" Her face trembled, even if she had the strength to hide it, she wouldn't. Their new lives should be built upon trust. 

The wizard nodded, "Give him a last resting place inside the family tomb. I killed a psychopath, not the man who raised me." His other hand was claimed by Hermione, who smiled in agreement.

Unknowingly to both Malfoy's, Hermione feared to go to sleep. During her short nap, earlier, she woke up with a startle, her heart beating in her throat as some memories returned in full force. Seeing again the spot in the great hall from where she was abducted, was also unsettling. Yet, she refused to say a word, hoping this to be of a temporary nature.

_ She was a strong woman, she was going to overcome this and move on. She had to. _

-oOo-

Draco tucked her in, spooning behind her, releasing a deep sigh of contentment. Not only was he finally sleeping in a bed again, after more almost two weeks of no decent sleep at all; his Hermione was back home, in his arms, safe and sound. His son made these adorable noises while he slept, curled in a fetal position inside his cot, a few feet away from their own bed. He cuddled with Hermione as never before, inhaling the scent of her shampoo; his arm snaked around her flatter waist, a hand cupped a breast possessively.

They showered together before getting between the sheets, upon his request. He washed her skin off of every filth, attended to the healing cuts on her arm, rubbed her scalp and lathered her hair. Hermione protested, “I can take care of myself, Draco.” 

But he pleaded with her, “Let me do this, love. I want to care for you.” Understanding where he came from, she gave him full access. His touches were at no point of sexual nature, he knew she wasn’t yet ready for it. Draco’s caresses were his way of showing how much he missed her, how desperate he had felt, and above all, how much he loved her.

Sleep took over until the newborn announced an empty belly.

A sleepy father stumbled to the cot, cradled the infant in his arms and offered him to his mother. Draco returned to his bed and laid across, nestling his head in her lap while she fed the baby. “Go to sleep, Draco, I’ll put him in his bed when I’m finished.”

He shook his head, “No, my job. I’m not sleeping, my eyelids are just a little heavy.” Scratching his nose with his hand. 

Hermione smirked, and caressed his cheek with her free hand, “Stubborn Slytherin.”

“ _ Your _ stubborn Slytherin, love. Would you be cross with me if I ask Krops to change the nappy?”

“I can’t blame you for feeling tired, Draco. The house-elf will be more than happy to do it, he can take the night shift, if he wants.” He kissed her lazy, while she changed sides. The sleepy grin he gave her, the sign he agreed.

The newborn fell swiftly asleep, his little butt dry and powdered by a beaming elf, who nearly danced with happiness to be of service. Shortly after, Draco's snores overpowered the little noises from Scorpio.

But Hermione was wide awake. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Lucius’ red-rimmed gaze appear, full of hate. No matter how much she tried, her brain replayed pieces of her torturing in her mind, hanging on the chains, helpless.

Biting the urge to scream, Hermione left her bed and exited the room, walking barefoot to the great hall. The room was moonlit and silent, a little too scary for her taste. Hermione threw a silence spell around the room, sat down on the floor, on the very same spot; and wiggled herself, allowing the tears to fall. The images wouldn't disappear, the foul smell of mould, his maniacal laugh happy to inflict her pain. It was as if the feeling of sheer pain never left her body, the burning fire of the drink of despair raging through her veins. It was all too much, and she screamed out the top of her lungs, screams of agony mixed with the crying of despair. She sobbed until she became hoarse and until she couldn't cry longer.

A plop startled her. Krops approached her with a cuppa tea, "Misses, drink, please. It will do Misses good."

Acting on an impulse, the woman set the mug aside and hugged the house-elf tight and sobbed some more; the poor creature spooked and confused. Never had someone embraced him before and he didn’t know what to do, patting Hermione awkwardly on the back.

Drying her tears, Hermione thanked for the tea, "Krops, thank you, and please, don't tell Draco about this." The elf nodded and disappeared instantly. Her sobs subdued and she remained on the floor a while longer. In the end, she returned to her room, splashing first some cold water on her face in the ensuite, before going back to bed, just in time for the new feeding.

Draco, unaware of her absence, scooted closer to her heat, sleeping peacefully with a smile. When she was done with Scorpio, Hermione sought the safety of his arms to find her own rest, falling asleep from exhaustion.


	27. Healing is hard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains a mild attack of ptsd. Proceed with caution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and the next one will deal with ptsd. In this chapter there is a mild attack included, please proceed with caution if it could trigger something.

##  **Chapter 27: Healing is hard**

During the day, neither of the Malfoy’s seemed to notice her despair. Hermione put up a mask, smiling, agreeing to a small gathering of Slytherins to thank them for their cooperation, and to introduce Scorpio officially to Draco’s best friends.

Around the meals she played with the food and made the portion she served herself, look more significant than it was. The few times Draco mentioned how little she ate, she blamed it on a temporary loss of appetite, due to tiredness or a stomach issue. She abused the fact that he was so distracted by the baby.

He pampered her with attention, though. Always touching or kissing her for the littlest reason. At night he cocooned with her, often falling asleep on her bosom, listening to her heartbeat. And she would leave him in the middle of the night, between the two feeds, to crack under the pressure. It was the first night, and then the second, followed by a third and so on. The past week she hid from Narcissa and Draco how much she suffered.

Avoiding the bloody room was nearly impossible, as it was on their path to the gardens. But if one of the two followed behind her and made the door crack, she froze in panic. 

Only Krops followed her actions critically, frowning at the size of the portion, or how she faked her smile. The elf brought her a mug with calming tea every night, but staying at arm's length, to avoid another hug. The more he saw his Misses crumble, the more convinced he became of warning his Master of Hermione's behaviour.  _ Until the weekend. Misses must get better by the weekend, or I will inform Master. _

Sunday came faster than expected, and the elves set up the garden furniture for the Slytherin brunch. Hermione was applying some makeup to mask the dark rings under her eyes. Draco approached her from behind and dropped a kiss on her shoulder, “Aren’t you sleeping enough, love?”

“I miss my full night of sleep, feeding every three hours is exhausting.” She turned inside his arms circle to kiss him back, before seeking comfort against his shoulder.

"We could try the baby formula again, and have Krops feed Scorpio at night. I'm worried love, you seem so tired lately, and I've noticed you're not eating decently, despite your efforts to hide it."

“It’s exhaustion, Draco. Nothing else.” 

"You can talk to me, love. If something is bothering you, I'm your partner, I want to be your best friend." He shoved some hair tresses away from her face, his eyes looking for any trace, any giveaway of her discomfort.

“Don’t worry, Draco. I have everything under control.” Her dismissal didn’t convince him, but he let it go for now. She improved physically, but despite her efforts to cover it up, he saw her deteriorate.  _ Maybe he should seek help. _

His friends showed up, almost together, and his concerns were set aside temporarily. Draco greeted Blaise with a brotherly hug, “Welcome, mate. I’m glad to see you at a better occasion.”

The tanned wizard responded equally, “Me too, my friend. Where’s your wife and the little nugget? He needs to meet Uncle Blaise.”

"We are right here, Blaise." She approached him and kissed him on the cheek.

Jokingly, Draco pulled her back, “That’s enough smooching mate, she’s mine.” Cho hugged Hermione with a smile, “I agree with you, Draco. Hello Hermione, you look good.” She inclined her head, admiring the baby in his mother’s arms, “He’s so cute!”

“Love, let Uncle Blaise properly say hello to his nephew.” Blaise snaked between the two women and took the baby over, with a gentleness that Hermione didn’t expect. 

She grinned at the cooing wizard, as the man showered the baby with compliments and promises. "Scorpio, I'll be your favourite uncle, show you the nice tricks on a broomstick, give you the best candy." He faced Hermione while speaking to the newborn, "You’ll love me so much more than your other uncle, Harry." The Gryffindor witch cracked under his wicked grin, the eyebrows wiggling very distinctively.

Theo was calmer in his approach, yet the wizard couldn’t resist cradling the infant in his arms, “They are only this little once. I must indulge.” No promises of wicked behaviour, just a notable promise of protection. “I’m relieved to see you alive and kicking again, Hermione. I hope never to go through something similar again, and I can only imagine the torture my mate here endured.” Astoria remained silent.

A dark shadow passed through her features, and it didn’t go unnoticed. She spoke softly, “So am I, Theo. And thank you for being such a good friend. You too Blaise. But we must move on, and look forward to the future, not stand still in the past.” With these words, she lead them to the gardens, holding the thought that the tough snakes were all marshmallows with a baby in their arms. 

A thought which got confirmed upon Pansy’s arrival, “We need to frame this picture, Hermione. Slytherin’s softy side, haha.” She kissed her best friend and the young mother in the cheek, “Especially for those moments when they go all ‘I’m the man’ on us. Don’t you agree, Cho?”

“Absolutely, Pansy. Where’s Neville?” Wondering where Pansy’s other half was.

"Oh, he'll be here in a minute, had to finish something at his greenhouse." Her words were barely cold,  the wizard in question arrived then, kissed her and gave a peck on Hermione's cheek.

“Where’s my nephew?” Neville handed over a pot to Hermione before claiming the newborn from Theo, who gave the baby up reluctantly.

Hermione peeked in the pot while reminding her guests, "He's premature, not a sack of potatoes. Be gentle with my son, lovelies." She sniffed, "What is this, Neville?"

"A mix of herbs for a tisane, Professor Pomfrey suggested the mix to help you during your feeding period. According to her, it will improve your milk production," his cheeks blushed adorably, and he hid his shyness by looking focused on the baby's face, who opened his eyes to see in whose lap he sat momentarily. "and will help the baby, keep him calm and cramp free. I dried the herbs myself, Hermione."

“Thank you, Longbottom, it’s very thoughtful of you.” Draco was genuinely surprised by the wizards gesture.

Eyeing Hermione decently, Neville noticed something was off with his friend, “Hermione, is everything okay, sister? You look tired.” Draco saw his wife put up the mask, and so did Krops, who frowned guardedly. The elf had already decided to confide tonight with his Master, hoping not to get punished for speaking out of line.

Hermione waved all away with a hand, “Motherhood and still recovering, it takes some time to heal.”

"You know if you need to talk, I'm always available. It was no walk in the park, what you went through, it must leave traces." The smile Hermione gave them, wasn't much reassuring. Draco was more than determined now to dig deeper into the matter.

The group chit chatted while they enjoyed their food, the baby now back on his cot under the heat spell. It was a warm gathering between old friends and the new additions, and before they knew it, it was time to return home.

Draco hadn't partaken so much in the conversations as he usually would, his concerned gaze sizing up Hermione without raising suspicions. To his surprise, he noticed the elf who kept an eye on Hermione's plate, adding food beyond her notice. This was so uncharacteristic for an elf to behave, if this didn't raise red flags, then he didn't know what would.

With the baby nicely fed and tucked in his cradle, he saw the perfect moment to touch the subject. “Hermione, will you be honest with me?”

“About what, Draco?” She wasn’t expecting this.

“Don’t hide behind tiredness, love. What’s the matter?”

“What else would it be?” Hermione tried to dismiss it, once again.  _ He went through enough, her pain was hers to carry. She would deal with this, he had suffered enough _ .

"I understand you went through a traumatic period, love. Hermione, talk to me." How could he force her to open up?

“I just need some time, Draco. It will all be okay.” She kissed him softly and invited him to join her in bed, spooning around his body. His heartbeat lulled her into sleep, his arms holding her tighter against his frame.

-oOo-

She woke up from one of the most violent nightmares. Hermione breathed heavily as if she just ran a marathon, sweating profusely, fighting to regain control. Afraid of waking Draco from his sleep, it was just a half hour ago since he woke up to change the nappy after a feeding moment, she wiggled free from his embrace and tiptoed downstairs.

The nightmare returned full of vengeance, and Hermione rubbed her wrists, trying to erase the sensation of the handcuffs cutting through her skin. The more she rubbed, the redder her skin coloured and the more painful it became.

She cried desperately, no matter what she did, Lucius’ red eyes haunted her, followed her everywhere, no matter how hard she fought to make her mind see he was gone. His maniacal voice, describing the tortures he foresaw for her son.

His voice, his look, the feel of his fingers pinching her face, it was all on a non stop loop in her head. It weighed on her mind, it suffocated her. It had to stop, she couldn't handle it any longer. She rubbed wrist on a wrist, scraping skin open with her nails, while fat tears fell on her fingers.  _ How do I make it stop? _

-oOo-

Krops watched her break from a corner. Tea was not the solution, this was the first time his Misses shattered so deep. It was out of his league.

He apparated next to his Master, "Master Draco, please wake up, Master." He shook the wizard on his arm, that hung out of the bed, "Master Draco!" The elf didn't want to yell, to avoid waking up the little one, and he changed of tactics, now shaking severely on the wizard's shoulder. Annoyed with his Master for not waking up, he pulled the sheets mercilessly, creating a wave of ice cold air.

Draco startled and look dazed at Krops, “Wa?”

"You must come, Master. Now!" Without further warning, he disapparated both of them towards the room.

The sight froze both arrivals.

Hermione curled on the floor, wrists bleeding, the witch crying desperately.

“Oh, Hermione.” Waking up from his initial shock, Draco went on this knees, slithering the remaining distance, while cradling her against his bare chest. “Woman, why did you lie to me? I want to help you, love.” Hermione hid her face in his neck; his free hand stroking over her arms and hair. He changed his seating from knees to a buddha position so she could sit on his lap; rocking her back and forth. Draco demanded softly, “Krops, bring me my wand and supplies to cover her wounds. Please.”

In the space of two pops, the house-elf handed his Master his wand, who performed the necessary spells to stop the blood flow and close the wounds; the house-elf wrapped a bandage tenderly around his misses wrists. "Master, it's been every day."

Draco eyed Krops with a lost look, “Every day?”

"Yes, Master. Misses cries every day. Misses eats something barely, also."

"Krops, you should have warned me earlier."

"Misses promised every day, it would be the last day."

Hiccuping Hermione intervened, “Don’t be angry at Krops. It’s my doing.”

“Hermione, why didn’t you tell me anything? Why don’t you trust me?”

She sobbed harder, and he didn't poke further. Her pain became his, and so there they were in the middle of the drawing room. Hermione on his lap, he swayed hugging her as tight as possible, both crying. He kissed her on the top of her head, and she sought his warmth, hands holding for dear life around his neck.

He spoke in a tight voice, "I understand, love. He tortured you, he made you feel excruciating pain. I don't know what he all said to you…"

“He wanted me to watch…” she spoke between sobs, “to watch how he would kill Scorpio. He was going to kill our baby in front of me, he called Scorpio...a mongrel…”

“He’s dead, love. He can’t hurt you nor the baby.” Draco felt a rage bubble to the surface,  _ I would kill him all over again if I could. _ A mug of steaming tea appeared in his eyesight. Not from a little elf's hand, but his mothers. Narcissa motioned silently towards Hermione and kneeling next to her daughter-in-law, she caressed Hermione's hair; all the while Draco spurred his wife to drink. "Love, I have some tea. Drink sweetheart. Drink some, please. For me, love."

He brought the cup to her lips and waited until she sipped. Narcissa took the mug from him and set it next to her, whispering to her son, “We need to seek help for her.” Draco nodded, he was beyond caring that his mother saw him cry. “We should have seen it, son. What has Lucius done?” The words came from a constricted throat. “She did nothing to deserve this. Darling, you did nothing wrong,” addressing  Hermione now, “I’m so sorry, Hermione.”

The three were unaware of the watching eyes, not only Krops but from the full household corps of elves. Sniffing and drying their tears at the corners of their pillowcases. Clueless about how to be of help.

After a half hour that felt like hours later, Draco stood up with a sleeping Hermione in his arms. His muscles complained from sitting this way for so long, but this wasn't the time to be a sissy. He brought Hermione to bed, tucked her in, and turned around to hug his mother who looked devastated. "We'll think of something, Mother. Together we will help her overcome this." He felt a tug at his pyjama pants, and he looked down.

“Master, may Krops prepare a bottle and try to feed little Master?” The elf looked pleading at Draco.

“You can try, but if it doesn’t work, I’ll help with Hermione. Thank you Krops. Go to sleep now, Mother. We’ll figure this out tomorrow, with a fresh mind.” He looked concerned at the sleeping witch.

Alone in his room, he spent hours awake - his wife inside the cradle of his comforting arms - while he racked his mind in search of a solution.  _ What could he do, to help her overcome her trauma? _

-oOo-

The couple woke up in the late morning, sunshine lighted up the room. Hermione snuggled deeper into Draco’s chest, guilt drowning her. “Forgive me for lying to you.”

His arms snaked tighter around her body, “Why, Hermione? Why didn’t you trust me? Why didn’t you confide in me?” His words were muffled against her hair.

"I do trust you, Draco. I do…" Hermione bit her lips, squinting her eyes shut, "I thought I could make it stop by myself, I didn't want to make you hurt more. But it hurts so much…"

"Love." He nearly strangled her while he hugged her so tight against him, "Love, Hermione, you and I are a team, love. We fight this together, never think that you are alone. I'm here, every step of the way for you." His lips met hers in a passionate kiss, "We made that adorable nugget together. We love each other, I love you more than my own life, Hermione. Let me fight with you and help you overcome this. But I can only help you if you allow me in. Don't shut me out, love." She nodded, words remained stuck in her throat.

After a moment of silence, she remarked, “Scorpio didn’t wake me up.”

He nodded, "I suspect Krops succeed in feeding the baby, last night. He pleaded with me to let him help."

“I don’t want to stop breastfeeding Scorpio, Draco.”

“You don’t have to, Hermione. But maybe as long as you’re this distraught, let him take care of the night shift.” Peeking over the crib, he noticed the absence of the baby. “Let us shower quickly and go search for our son, love. I feel hungry.”

-oOo-

The first thing Draco and Hermione noticed was how unrecognisable the room was. Sitting at the breakfast nook, was a carefully smiling Narcissa rocking a sleeping baby.

Draco looked confused at the new setting, “What happened in here?”

Narcissa answered him, “By the looks of it, the elves redecorated the room. I see nothing in its former place.”

Krops cleared his throat, while he bobbed his head frantically, “We hope Misses feels more at home in a new room.” The little fingers, however, shook nervously. “All the elves helped, we want to help Misses with whatever we can.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said above, chapt 27 and 28 will deal with ptsd and the healing process. I felt it necessary to let Hermione cope with the matter after such a traumatic situation; denying it gave me a high level of fairy talish feeling, too much peaches and cream.
> 
> However, I'll rush it through - no more than two chapters and a touch here and there. In other words, I won't remain long in this matter. It's a very delicate issue to handle and tackling such a subject without the proper knowledge would be disrespectful to those who do suffer from ptsd. It's already bad enough that people don't talk about it without restraint, and it's still considered unfortunately as a taboo; there's no need to minimize the effects in fiction on the top. The healing process described on chapt 28 is real, several researches have led me to the same type of treatment.
> 
> If I hurt or offend any of my readers, my honest apologies, it's not intentional.
> 
> And the door is always open if you need to talk. I'm the listening ear to whom might need.


	28. Healing is patience

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part two of the healing process. No graphic pstd attacks just mentioning. Proceed with care if could trigger nasty memories. Though the end is fluffy.  
> My eternal love to Marlygrl94 for all the beta-work!

##  **Chapter 28: Healing is patience**

 

The room might have changed in appearance, but her problems didn't end thanks to a moved table or some chairs placed somewhere else. It remained the same room, nevertheless, even if  _ the  _ spot was now covered by the big dining table.

 

It was different but not enough.

 

What she didn't expect was a husband who relentlessly sought for a solution. Through their healer Samantha, Draco got in contact with a mind healer named Henry, and the man's very first step was to suggest a move. Relocate to another estate, to minimise the physical triggers in Hermione's mind. "She needs to heal in a totally different environment. Returning to your home..."

 

Draco added as he listened intently to every word,"The Manor."

 

“Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Your manor. Returning to your manor must happen with small steps, like in small dosage. Until she feels safe enough inside those walls.” 

 

And this is why the Malfoy quartet relocated to the Irish Malfoy estate in Tobar Nalt, with half of the House Elf's staff. Krops was, of course, part of the relocating team, and oversaw the move of the heir's cot personally, "So little Master doesn't feel the difference."

 

In record time, the estate was cleaned spotless, the windows open wide to allow the fresh air inside, and all the white sheets, which covered every single piece of furniture, vanished with a snap of a finger. "Krops made sure everything is spic and span, Mrs. Malfoy. Master. Little Master Scorpio will now sleep in a clean room."

 

Narcissa thanked the elf for his initiative. The elves clearly spared no effort to help their misses recover; the kitchen team paid extra attention to restocking the healthiest ingredients, and have a variety of tisanes at hand for Hermione. 

 

Yet, Krops never inched too close, the hug was not something he wanted to repeat.  _ Misses must not hug Krops. It feels very strange...no, no more hugs. Yuck. _

 

The mind healer set up a series of sessions at their newest location, “I will help you understand what triggers your nightmares, Mrs. Malfoy.”

 

Hermione corrected him, “Call me Hermione, please.”

 

"Here's my step-by-step plan, Hermione. We'll find the triggers, I'll give you the resources to ground yourself and snap out of it, probably with the use of an object you have. And we will together find a way to cope with what happened and how to deal with it so you can start living  a relatively peaceful life again." His voice was reassuring, the man had a fatherly look. "I want you to choose an object, which you wear at all times and can work as a grounding mechanism, your personal failsafe. We will train together so that when you feel lost, this item will bring you peace."

 

She thought automatically of the beautiful necklace she now wore already daily. An extraordinary gift from Draco - a white gold necklace with a blue sapphire pendant in the shape of a teardrop, surrounded by swirls of white gold and diamonds. 

 

Draco gifted her the necklace in the morning after her breakdown, "I had this custom-made for you, long before hell came down on our heads, as a gift for our son's birth. The plan was to take you somewhere romantic, just the two of us, a long-awaited date; yet, I can't wait any longer." He fidgeted with the box, before handing it to her, "It's forged by goblins - the sapphire is your birthstone, and it protects against evil and poison, symbolising purity and wisdom." Hermione wasn't a girl for trinkets, but it was the kind of gift she valued the most, bought with the intention to genuinely please her, and not to show off as a trophy. She held the box with shaky hands, but he opened it and held it before her face. "Please, Hermione, allow me."

 

The necklace became part of her daily garment, only removed before going to bed. Somehow fingering the stone brought her serenity and the sensation increased when Henry added a purpose to the gem. "I choose my pendant, Henry." 

 

“The pendant it is, Hermione.”

 

-oOo-

 

In the meantime, Draco assisted every session, listening intently to her descriptions of terror she had experienced. He wanted to know, to hear the pain she had to endure. He listened and never interrupted, even if it all made him sick, and horrified. More often than not, there was the need to pause; though he resisted the urge as much as possible, and underwent it like a man. When the opportunity arose; mostly thanks to Henry who called for a recess; he went outside to take a breather, to regain control or merely allow his stomach to calm down. If it all was too much to stomach, he faked a visit to the loo. Some details were just too gross, and Draco never forgot about the particular aspect: it was all inflicted by his own father, of all people.

 

Steady on, Draco became her rock, never judging nor patronising, but the person who listened to her, who embraced her tightly. Her unexpected but much-needed anchor. 

 

-oOo-

 

Fortunately, Scorpio grew bigger every day. His favourite source of food remained mommy, but during the night he accepted the baby formula offered by a cuddly and humming Krops. 

 

He grew more alert with every passing week, “Hermione, once again our son is inspecting every corner of our bedroom, instead of falling asleep.” The time he spent awake prolonged, admiring the surroundings or following Krops every move. It was funny to watch how the baby stretched his neck to look everywhere. 

 

Draco frowned, "Do baby eyes change  colour, Hermione?" Analyzing his son's light blue eyes. 

 

Hermione peered over his shoulder, “Why do you ask?”

 

"They seem greyer now, less blue." Admiring the features of his baby boy, was now quickly one of Draco's favourites pastimes, shooting photograph after photograph of every new thing the baby did, the pile of pictures growing at a fast rate: while Hermione fed, or changed a nappy; during a stroll down the gardens in the arms of Nana Narcissa. 

 

Draco gained the title of a doting father - according to both women, always bragging, “See him smile Hermione, he smiles to his daddy, don’t you, little Scorpio. My baby boy loves his daddy, right, son?” And Hermione rolled her eyes in response; this Draco didn’t rhyme with the man she used to know, “Yes, Draco, we are all aware of how Scorpio is a super baby.”

 

And Nana Narcissa, she revered her grandson in a way she never did with Draco. At least, not openly in front of Lucius; her husband nagged countless times about how she would turn Draco into a sissy if she cuddled him too much. Which is why her affections towards her son became a behind-the-screens thing, and with time diminishing into nothing at all. 

 

Now, she sang a full playlist of wizardry lullabies to the newborn, and consider a sporadic baby sigh as a deliberate action rather than a coincidence.

 

Somehow, Ireland turned out to be a new leaf, what the three needed to start over.

 

-oOo-

 

“Hello Henry, sorry I’m late.”

 

Hermione gave Draco a once-over, registering the wet shirt clinging to her husband’s chest. “Is it raining outside?”

 

“Funny, love. No, Scorpio needed a last-minute bath, thanks to a little issue with a nasty nappy. And you know how he hates to be stark naked. It was bad today…” Draco gave a relay of his activity with a smile, drying the remaining drops on his face with a small towel. “I don’t know how to make him understand that a bath is relaxing…”

 

Henry chuckled, “In time, Draco. He’ll figure it all out and fight you for more bath time instead of none. Don’t worry, your son is a normal baby.”

 

“No, my son is a Malfoy. We are better than normal.” Draco’s voice carried nothing of the usual arrogance, but was more a tease towards his wife, who gave him a very clear ‘really?’ look.

 

When the soft laughter died out, Henry asked his recurring questions, it was their third session in as many weeks. Before Hermione answered, she fingered the pendant, “They still come, the nightmares. Mostly at night, when everything is quiet as a mouse. But they are less intense.” Draco was rubbing her back. “I don’t  _ feel  _ him touch my skin.”

 

Henry wrote notes on his notepad, "This is outstanding progress, Hermione. You're able to desensitise the experience."

 

"And the pendant is indeed my grounding. I focus on the stone to pull back from the nightmare." Hermione side glanced at Draco, "Though it's often Draco who shoves it in my hand."

 

The mind healer shook his head, “In time it will be you who grabs it instinctively. Draco, tell me, how do you intervene?”

 

His hand never stopped rubbing her back, "Hermione doesn't react at my voice nor touch at first. It's when I give her the pendant, and she grabs it, that she starts to respond." What he didn't tell the healer was that he always set her on his lap, cradling her to offer comfort; or the many strokes on her head, and the never-ending flow of soothing words. 

 

The mind healer filled the gaps by himself, nodding. "Are there fewer nightmares per night?"

 

Both answered, “Yes.”

 

“Then we are progressing, at a normal pace. I’ve never expected to have you all up and running after two weeks. What I am pleased to see is that you react as I wanted you to the pendant for guidance. I’m fully confident to heal you almost completely after a few more weeks. Then we will reintroduce the family home in Wiltshire to complete the therapy.” Henry rounded up his belongings, satisfied with the advancement.

 

-oOo-

 

Narcissa laid her hand at the decorations adorning the tables in the garden of their Irish estate. After four weeks of relative peace and quiet, Narcissa insisted on having brunch with their closest friends, and she personally included Molly and Arthur on the guest list. 

 

Today was one of those beautiful sunny days, pleasantly warm but not too much, with a gentle breeze. Hermione sunbathed in a corner until it was time for the guests to arrive. Scorpio laid asleep next to her, under the sunshade, wearing a yellow sun hat tied under his little chin, while Draco overlooked some company papers under one of the umbrellas protecting the whole table, the jingling of ice cubes and the shift of pages the only sounds he made. 

 

It was a very peaceful setting until the first guest arrived with much bombast, Uncle Blaise. The wizard first made  a beeline to the crib and picked the baby up, who scrunched his face as if he was bothered by the intrusion. "Buddy, you have to smile to your favourite uncle, not look as if I farted." The laughter behind him grew, more people had arrived. 

 

“Blaise, I guess the little one doesn't like your antics so much.” Harry couldn’t resist the jest, claiming the baby for himself, “You prefer the Gryffindor approach, don’t you Scorpio. Softer, less Bigfoot-ish.” The two wizards shook hands, and Harry kissed Hermione, smiling gently while his thumb stroked her cheek, before he greeted Draco. They were all up to date with her struggles, and had been very supportive; though never too intense - following the healers’ suggestions to avoid overcrowding.

 

Hermione smiled softly back, “It’s getting better, Harry. I’m getting better, at a slow pace but gradually.”

 

“I can see it, I spot the Granger-spark in your eyes.” Their focus changed to the heavily pregnant Ginny who waddled towards her friend.

 

Hermione exclaimed in surprise, covering her mouth with her hand, “Ginny, oh dear. What a belly!”

 

"Tell me all about it, sister. I'm about to ask you for muggle tricks on how to induce the labour." Ginny huffed, "I'm fed up with the volume, of not sleeping,  _ and  _ swollen feet,  _ and  _ my back who nags like a bitch. I look like a whale.”

 

The brunette laughed, “I guess it’s cobblestones, pineapple and sex.” All ears turned to Hermione curious, and she grinned while she lectured. “That’s the reason for abstention before the labour, Ginny. The semen contains a substance that triggers childbirth.” She threw her hands in the air, only seeing surprised looks at her explanation, “Oh boy. And the Wizardry world calls themselves superior to the Muggle one, Jesus, give me patience.”

 

Ginny beamed, enjoying the path of their discussion, “So your advice is that I jump on Harry for a  _ ride. _ ” she waggled her eyebrows, “Harry, tonight, babe, it's been awhile." Harry was hundred per cent Harry, flushing red at the suggestion. 

 

Blaise added his two-cents, "I'm sure there is an alcove in this estate, somewhere. Just use silencing charms." The chance to taunt the Chosen One was too good to let it go lost

 

Cho struck her husband on his shoulder, "Zip it, sweetie."

 

Narcissa followed the whole episode, exchanging knowing smiles with the Weasley older couple. Arthur was blood-red but Molly enjoyed the bantering, remarking louder, “Ginny, it’s the baby who decides. Not you.” Between the two mothers grew this understanding, they both welcomed without further questions.

 

The red-haired witch dismissed her mother, and asked for clarification, “Hermione, tell me more about those cobblestones?”

 

"You need a car for that or a bicycle." Ginny looked at her as if the brunette was talking mandarin. 

 

Harry, however, seemed relieved, wiping an invisible sweat off his forehead. "I can find one of those easily." Hilarity everywhere.

 

-oOo-

 

Narcissa succeeded in her set-up. It did Hermione good, to be surrounded by friends, and family. The younger witch smiled and enjoyed the bantering, participated in the fun, with Draco always hovering over her. And Hermione's positive emotional state worked contagiously; Krops pranced the whole time while he waited on the guests.

 

For Narcissa the confirmation that the end of the tunnel was in reach, tides were finally turning. Her only doubt was if the always-adorable Scorpio was an angel or a little devil in the making.  _ It is something I’m looking forward to discover _ ing, she thought,  _ whatever it turned out to be, I’ll handle it with love. _


	29. Healing is finding your will to fight back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't believe my Marlygrl has ever beta'ed a chapter so fast. Which I'm thankful for, it was a bit late of my side. Enjoy.

##  **Chapter 29: Healing is finding your will to fight back**

“Oh, Fuck. Scorpio”

Hermione peeked through the bathroom door, hair wrapped in a towel on the top of her head, “Oh.” Draco threw his arm away, gesturing as ‘ _ Don’t say a word _ ’. His face was blood red, one hand holding his crotch while breathing hard through his mouth. 

It didn't take long before she got the whole picture, especially when the wild kicking baby was smiling wide at his daddy. The cutie-pie was now eight weeks old and laughed at every face above his. It was very probable, that Scorpio mistaken Draco's grimace face for a smirk.

Hermione approached the wizard carefully, rubbing his back gently, "Scorpio, you naughty boy." Again a toothless smile from ear to ear. Draco grunted but leaned against her legs, in search of support. She kneeled, "Do you want some ice?" A tightly lipped face shook no. "It's the second time this week, Draco. You've got to pay better attention to those uncontrolled projectiles." Hermione really did her best to contain a grin but received an ugly stare in return.  She gave up and barked in laughter, "I'm so sorry." she said between the snickering, "I can't help it, I'm so sorry Draco. You know I love you..."

“Me not so much at the moment.” He grunted, but the worst was over. He could now breathe easier. “What’s so fun about kicking your daddy, buddy?” He grabbed a bare foot and munched on the sole, “I’m eating your little toes in just a minute.”

The cuddling only increased the movements of the legs and arms, the attention was more than appreciated. The careless aimed kicks, well, Draco decided to pay more attention to those. A quick side glance reassured him that his favourite body part was still working. Hermione's bath towel loosed up and revealed the beautiful shape of her body, belly now tighter, almost like pre-pregnancy . Much to his pleasure, her tits had increased volume, and they seemed to remain like that. More playground for daddy, he often thought.

She caught him ogling and wrapped the towel tighter around her body. "Not in front of the baby." He looked devilish slash angelic back at her, she swatted him on his shoulder. "Git."

Everything was slowly returning to normal. Her nightmares weren't a nightly event anymore, and she felt her strength come back each day it passed. Together with Narcissa, they started to create a copy of the Manor's garden, especially the roses part. Or they would go shopping nearby, returning with bags full of things for Scorpio; Nanny had clearly a problem containing her urge to buy every piece of baby clothing she liked.

-oOo-

"I want to revisit the Manor." Hermione's statement silenced both men, Draco and Henry. 

"Are you sure?" The mind healer studied her face. It was their seventh session, and he was more than pleased with her progress. Before him stood a woman that was slowly regaining footing in her life, on the contrary of the frail and pale looking witch he met first. She would still recount her torture, but instead of a broken voice, it came nowadays in a steady, strong-willed tone.

“I’m sure that I’m ready to go back to my old life. I loved my internship as a researcher, and I want to go back to work. We live here miles away from our friends, I miss Diagon Alley and the ice creams at Fortescue’s. Narcissa and I had decorated the nursery at the manor so beautifully...don’t get me wrong, I love this place, but I want my home.”

Draco listened, caressing her hair in the meantime. Hermione called the manor her home, their home. It did weird things to his heart. “If that’s what you want, then I’m fine with trying to go back.”

"I suggest a day, then a day and a night, increase the days of stay at a comfortable pace. Not dislocate at once." Henry saw them nod in agreement. "May I suggest tomorrow?" So it was settled, their first attempt at the Healer's company. Focussing on the great hall, where it all started.

-oOo-

That night, Hermione and Draco slept restlessly. 

Once worried about his wife, their stay in Tobar Nalt could last as long as it was needed, for him it what only mattered was her safety and happiness above the distance from everything else. He had adapted his work schedule to fit his new location, their friends visited them often too. There was no time rush.

The other feared the great hall, touching the pendant non-stop for support - she hadn’t remove it before bedtime. Yet, she knew she would conquer her fear with Draco at her side. It was worth the try, this wasn’t their normal life.

-oOo-

It was silent inside the manor. The sound of their footsteps echoed along the walls. A feminine hand held the other in a vice hold, for support and grounding. The grip was as fierce as it was the hand which held the pendant tight in its grasp.

“Hermione, I want you to show me where he took you away.”

She took a big intake of breath before moving, dragging Draco in tow. “Here.”

"How do you feel?" Henry spoke soft but determined. "Hermione, describe to me precisely what you feel." He watched her hand rub the pendant fiercely, holding on to Draco for dear.

She looked around her, "Your mother stood there, paralysed but her eyes frozen in fear." They let her talk, not that she paid attention to them, lost in her own thoughts. "One arm was like a concrete column against my back; the other felt like a tightrope around my legs. I couldn't move. I couldn't scream. Just surrender." She faced Draco, caressing his face gently, her fingers ghosting over his features. "He's gone. He can't hurt me anymore. I stand here, and I feel no fear." His grey eyes were full of compassion and pride. Draco had watched her fight back and return to the woman he knew she was. She was finally returning to her usual self, and he thanked all the wizards and gods for this miracle.

“Henry I feel no fear.” The older man smiled back.

Turning her back to them, she went the stairs up, heading towards the nursery. The men followed silently. “Do you see how beautiful Scorpio’s room is, Henry? I dreamed of seeing him sleep here. I want this.”

"You'll have it, Hermione." It was Draco who spoke, "Our little boy will sleep here. Grow up between these walls, make mischief. When  _ you  _ are ready to return and only then.”

“I suggest you two remain here a while longer, go back home and return here two days later for an overnight stay. What do you say?”

"It sounds like a strong plan, Henry." Hermione thanked him, and Draco walked him back to the Floo. Moments later the blond returned, snaking his arms around her waist, his chin on her shoulder.

“Tell me what you think.”

“I think I wouldn't be this far without your help. My former nemesis is the anchor I can’t live without. I can’t thank you enough, Draco.”

"I consider us even, then. Living a life without you in it, is no life at all. The swot who outdid me in everything but flying now owns my heart and soul." 

He pulled her with him, down the stairs. “Do you trust me?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Isn’t that obvious by now?”

He took her outside, “Wait here, I’ll be back in a jiffy.” He returned swiftly with his Firebolt in his hands.

Hermione shook her hands in the air, “I’m not flying that thing.”

He mounted the broom and stuck out his hand towards her, "Come here, you little coward."

“I’m no coward.” Her chin went up in the air. He looked at her, pointedly and slowly she inched closer. “Oops.” His free arm snaked around her waist, lifted her one leg over the broom and sat her swiftly down, between his legs.

"Trust me." He whispered in her ears. Not giving her the room to second guess his move, he took off slowly. Her scream nearly turned him deaf, luckily it didn't last long. He circled the area of the manor, showing her the extent of the property. He flew at lazy speed, pointing out special places he loved as a child, promising to show her all of it, on the ground one day.

Hermione gasped when she took in the imposing sight the Manor formed from up above, “It’s quite a building, Draco.”

"Yes, it is. I must not forget to employ some distracting wards to certain sections before we don't find an escaped Scorpio."

“Speaking of own experience?” She chuckled and felt the ripples of his own laughter against her back.

"Perhaps, ask Mother." He landed softly. "I love this place, but I've hated it too, wholeheartedly hated every wall of it. I got back to loving it, and now I fear it. I feared it more than ever before today because I worried that you might not want to return. I've been the happiest in here and also the most frightened."

“We’ll make it a happy place again. Remember you asked me a few months ago to renew our vows? Let us transform the gardens and this house again into a happy place. Make new memories, the kind we cherish.”

"When you're strong enough, we will." Draco grabbed her by the waist and twirled her around, her laughter dispersed by the wind. "You're smiling again." He kissed her deeply, and she returned it in fold.

An idea crossed her mind. 

Putting it into practice, she pulled him with her, into the house, to the great hall. Standing near the doomed spot - closer was impossible thanks to a dinner table, relocated by the elves - she let him go, faced him, and began to unbutton her blouse.

"What are you doing?" He sought the certainty in her decision, doubting if it was a good idea at all; however, he gulped at the sight of Hermione in her navy bra, while her fingers made quick work of the zipper from the skirt.

“I want to create a new memory at the spot I hate the most. Will you help me?” The skirt fell with a light thud. The trimmed curls of her mound were visible through the lace of her knickers, his eyes drawn to it. 

His sight got blocked as she approached him, unbuttoning the few buttons of his shirt before pulling it over his arms. The belt followed quickly, and she kneeled to pull his trousers along with his trunks down in one move. Socks followed immediately after.

Hermione stood up, fingers touching feather-like over his erection, high and proud, and rock hard. Her hand closed around the velvety skin, moving up and down while her gaze never left his for a second. Draco licked his lips, breathing shallowly. He wanted to hold her face to claim her lips in a heated kiss, but she escaped his grasp returning to kneel before him and taking his cock in her mouth in one swift move. She moaned with satisfaction, and set a pace, driving him crazy in no time. He played with her hair, giving it a tug or two when the sensations drove him wild. Never shifting his gaze from her lips around his member. "Love." She hummed but resisted his attempts to raise her to her feet.

"Love, I won't last much longer if you continue." She wiggled her eyebrows but continued her ministrations thoroughly. Make him cum in her mouth had been her plan all along. Betting that he might return the favour with his skilled tongue and be ready for a second round by then. 

Relaxing her throat, she took him deep into her mouth. "Oh, fuck. Hermione." She repeated the motion a time or two more, and he lost all his control, in a series of jerks and even fucking her mouth, so consumed he was by the waves of pleasure. 

When he regained enough control, he picked her up and laid her gently as close as possible of that specific spot. His mouth claimed hers, his hands making quick work of her bra and possessed the soft flesh, kneading it and flicking the thumb over the taut nipples. He sucked her bottom lip before releasing it with a plop and focussed his attention to the nubs he circled. Draco tasted a few drops of milk and purred. "Now I understand my son." She smiled huskily but mewled right after, as he lashed out on the nipples, biting, pulling and licking them, attention equally shared between both sides.

In the meantime, his hands pulled her knickers always, one palming a globe, while the other rested flat against the apex of her thighs, for a few seconds. His middle finger stroked over her slit, top of the finger rolling around her clit, before dipping inside her pussy. Hermione’s hips rose in response to the welcome intrusion, begging for more, to which he complied almost immediately.

A second finger joined the first, and slipped inside her soaked channel, excruciatingly slow in the beginning, until Draco licked and sucked her clit mercilessly, driving the pace of his thrusting fingers to a maddening speed. She jerked, and panted, and shook, speaking inaudible words. He knew how to play her buttons perfectly, timing his attack on her quim with precision. She came with a guttural scream, jerking up and holding on to the back of his head for purchase. 

Without asking for permission, he entered her channel, wanting to feel the ripples of her orgasm squeeze his cock. He grunted from the sensation of her heated walls around his member, “It’s been so long, love. I’m so home.”

She pulled him close against her chest so she could feel his weight pinning her down, his chest hair rubbing against her sensitive nipples. He wanted to release some of the pressure, but she wouldn't have none of it, and he let her. 

Without warning, he flipped her around, setting her on her fours. Positioning himself, he thrust deep, his hands at her hips guiding his movements at a relentless pace. Slapping his hips hard against hers, he claimed her as his. "You're mine, Hermione. You are my wife, your pussy belongs to my cock, and your heart belongs to mine. I need you like I need air to breathe."

His passionate words were the trigger of a second all-consuming orgasm. Rising up to her knees she slapped an arm around his neck to claim his mouth, surrendering to the waves burning through her. He bit  her earlobe, before demanding her mouth. She fell on her fours again and reached with a hand between her legs to fondle his balls, the feeling so erotic that he exploded inside her channel, jerking erratically. His grunts were muffled against her neck, her tongue duelling with his. Hermione kept rocking her hips against his, while he pulsed inside, prolonging his orgasm as long as possible.

Spent, Draco shifted them, he laid on his back now. Hermione kissed his chest wherever she could reach, putting her head against his pectoral, listening to the powerful beat of his heart. Silence wandered between them, comforting. 

“Can you reach your wand easier than mine, Draco?”

“What for?”

“I’m not on a potion yet.”

"Let nature decide, love. Imagine, is there a better way of making unforgettable memories than creating a new life?"

“Draco, Scorpio is barely eight weeks old. It would be too soon.” Her complaints sounded weak, alas.

“I want more children with you, Hermione. Now, tomorrow, next year, the year after. It doesn’t matter. If it’s indeed too fast, we’ll deal with it. No spell, let nature decide.” He got up and helped her rise to her feet.

While they put on their clothing again, she looked back at where they stood just moments ago. Pressing her body against his, hands on her waist he murmured, “What do you think?”

“I think that I’ll have to watch out with your mother, so she doesn’t guess what we did here.”

“Hmm.”

“What, hmm, Draco?”

“Nothing.”

It didn't sound much reassuring, but she missed his playful side as well. They weren't out of the tunnel yet, but the light was visible now, and the end neared, a day at the time.


	30. Chapter 30: Epilogue Renewing Vows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A word of thanks.
> 
> Thank you, Marlygrl94 for the amazing job of cleaning up my fic from head to toe, it was a titan work but you did it great and your support is still massively appreciated.
> 
> Thank you to Green Eyed Lana, our partnership was shortlived but greatly appreciated as well.
> 
> Last but not least: Thank you to all my loyal readers and reviewers. I came to the ending point of this fic, a mastodont of 61k words for a first-time author. It was a journey of trial and error, some paths truly unexpected giving me a taste of what I can handle (or not). Yet, many of you shared your thoughts with me, giving me the fire to continue.
> 
> Alas, for Five Years, I don't see how I can continue without doing injustice to a fic that I love. It's better to end it on a high point, methinks.
> 
> And how can I end it better, than with the appropriate amount of fluffy, smut and fluff once more?
> 
> If you want a new Marriage Law fic, I've started "Searching for the perfect husband" with a completely different point of view - speed dating, a beauty pageant and a job-shadowing house-elf test! - check it out, share your love there too, if you want. 
> 
> Again, thank you for your readership and for joining me in my Five Years journey!

 

**Chapter 30: Renewing Vows.**

Rows of white chairs lined up side by side, at the inside towards the aisle, linking each row, was a bow of fabric and a small bunch of white roses attached to each seat. Luna, somehow, succeeded into bringing an impressive flock mix of Song Thrushes, House Sparrows and Nightingales filling the entire gardens with the chirp of birds.

Not one seat was available, the chattering was kept low, maybe because Luna increased the volume of the chirping magically to interfere with any gossip.

All the invitees, dressed in colourful robes - following the implied dress code - waited impatiently for the arrival of the bride. The groom, the only person allowed to attire grey, paced back and forth.

This time, it was so much different than a year half ago; inside their tent with only the Weasleys and his own parents. The singing, the murmurs, the bright garments and the broad smiles stood out massively in contrast with the forced talks and well-wishes from back then.

This time he would say I do, wholeheartedly, acknowledging that she was his future. Proud of the woman she became, of the battle she fought to crawl out of her darkness.

In the past two months, they traded Tobar Nalt steadily for an extended stay at the Manor until they moved permanently, refurbishing it from head to toe; the walls decorated in new shades of paint, or some even torn down to make room for a modern setting. Nearly all but one room were included in this massive makeover. The nursery remained untouched.

The brighter his birth home became, the more Hermione blossomed, just as his mother did. Two nights before the official move-in, the three laid the ashes of Lucius to rest inside the family tomb, in silence. Giving their souls the closure they all needed, saying goodbye to the proud father, the loving husband, and during a short period of time, a pleasant father-in-law. Narcissa held both of them tightly in her arms; now it was she the one who needed comfort. Now almost four months ago, when she witnessed the fall of a man she respected, and see in its place, the rise of a madman.

Between the silent walls of her bedroom, Narcissa fell asleep with tears in her eyes, the only moment she allowed her emotions to roam free. Outside Hermione's knowledge, but upon the insistence from Draco, Narcissa also attended a few healing sessions with Henry. The man made her see it was natural to feel loss and grief, Lucius had shared a life with her, in better times and during the most daunting moments; denying her pain was only a mere postpone.

Everything fell into place afterwards, Narcissa commandeering a portrait in the hope to be rejoined once again with her lost love unless it was the lunatic who returned - in that case, she promised Draco to destroy the picture herself. Depending on its new resident, the place of the frame was still to be determined, momentarily it would remain inside her private quarters.

To this celebration, Draco was forced to reign his mother in. Used to hosting extraordinary events, she wanted to open this vow renewal to all and everyone who meant something inside the Wizardry World. Hermione had listened in panic, lacking the courage to deny her mother-in-law her pleasure; Draco, however, set his foot down and cut through the guest list with a scythe reducing it to a quarter of its original number. Which led to zero negative RSVPs and full attendance.

The orchestra began to play the wedding march.

All guests rose to their feet and held their breaths for just a second before they unanimously started to laugh at the adorable sight before them.

A proud walking Krops, dressed to the ninnies in a yellow three-piece suit, levitated the mini-me version of the groom, who drooled all over his robes thanks to a growing tooth. Scorpio's hair styled just like his father's, the baby was the spitting image of Draco when he was this young, including the chubby cheeks. He was admired by all and rewarded the audience with a curious look, head turning from left to right so he wouldn't miss a thing, stealing the spotlight effortlessly.

That was until Arthur cleared his throat, proud to walk down his other daughter, stepping forward straight as a peacock. Her hand rested in the crease of his arm and was covered by Arthur's own hand.

Arthur had to fight for this honour, as Harry wanted to be the one taking her to the altar. But Arthur won it, thanks to his age, remarking that is was not done, to have a youngster lead the bride down the aisle if the girl in question was older than him. The valid point sealed the deal.

The bride wore this time a cream coloured dress - not a dark blue gown as in the first time - the gown shining brightly from the number of crystals and sequins adorning the garment. Narcissa suggested, at first, pure white, but Hermione drew the attention towards Scorpius, having her own son lead the way, didn't combine well with the virginity symbolism of a white bridal dress.

For jewellery, she wore her sapphire pendant.

The last few steps before reaching Draco were taken painfully or teasingly slow, depending on how you saw it. The shared looks withheld promises for later, of the kind to be fought inside private chambers. Blaise coughed  _too much foreplay_  and rubbed the sore place where his wife Cho struck him.

"Son, make this woman happy."

"I plan to do so, with my whole heart, Arthur." The men shook hands.

Ron spoke up, "We are all gathered here to celebrate the vow renewal of this lovely couple, Hermione and Draco Malfoy."

He had surprised Hermione and Draco a few weeks before, by showing them his licence to be a wedding officiant. When he heard about their plans, he grew this idea, and not one soul could have stopped him from being the one to preside over their ceremony. Now that Ron claimed his place, Harry felt a short pang of jealousy.

Hermione beamed at his manners, this was the Ron she knew, the one who wanted to please others.

"I don't have to explain to you which are the duties of a husband towards his wife, or the other way around. If there is a couple that has shown the world what it is to stand by each other and be each other's rock in a savage sea, then it's the two of you. Fate played a nasty trick on you, and yet, we see both shine."

The bride and groom shared a heart-melting look.

"Let's look head-on to the boring part of this ceremony. Draco Malfoy, do you take your Hermione Granger to be your lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do." Clear.

"Hermione Granger, do you take this man, Draco Malfoy to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

No room for doubt, "I do."

"Hermione, will you read the vows you've written for Draco?"

She took a deep breath, "Last year when your name popped up as my match, I've cursed you into oblivion. You were my tormentor, the boy who made my school career a hell, calling me the worst names, never letting me forget that I did not belong in your world, my origin was inferior to yours. Never did I imagine, that instead of shackling my life to the worst possible man, I would find my soulmate. Our path was not the easiest one, but today I don't regret any moment of it, because my nemesis from before is my anchor today. My tormentor became the best partner a wife can wish for. Draco you are an amazing father and an even better husband. I love you."

Draco needed a moment to regain control before he started, as almost everyone else, moved with Hermione's words. Weasley sniffed.

"My love, how can my speech even equal yours? You rose the stakes, I can only do with what I have." He cleared his throat, "Hermione Granger now Malfoy, the reason why my heart beats, the sun in my blue sky. A courageous soul. Time after time you astonish me with your willpower, the amount of love and forgiveness you have to give. I didn't believe in the beginning, us to be the perfect match, as those old bats foresaw." His thumb caressed her face, their surroundings a blur.

"Yet, I cannot think there's another woman out there, who could love me the way you do, seeing through my flaws and antics, knowing the man behind the mask. You are my wife, my other half, my best friend and an amazing mother. I'll be the man devoted to making your life the happiest possible because I can't live without you. You are my everything, love. You're my world. I love you, Hermione."

With both hands cradling her face in their hold, he placed a kiss on each eye, drying the escaping tears; followed by the tip of her nose, to end with a passionate kiss on her lips.

Behind him, Ron remarked, "Kissing the bride happens later, friend." Their audience chuckled, but the couple never noticed, lost inside their private bubble.

The exchange of rings followed, and Ron finished the ceremony, "You have already kissed the bride."

"Not yet thoroughly." Draco snatched his wife, kissed her once more heatedly leaning over her, much to the delight of their attendance, which erupted in loud applause. He released her lips with a plop, Hermione batting her eyelashes to return back to her reality, and hiding her face in his neck, emotional.

Their loved ones crowded them to congratulate them with the ceremony, their closest friends hugging them tightly.

"Malfoy, remember the iceberg?" Harry grinned, "Is it still where you get your warmth from?"

"Decent men tell no tales." Both wizards watching the brunette laugh with some remark from Pansy. "Never did I expect her to be this amazing."

"It's who Hermione is, she loves unconditionally."

"She even forgives a soul like me, after I abandoned her with Harry." Ron introduced himself into the conversation. "I have to thank you, Malfoy. For never giving up on her, when she needed you the most. I hate to say this, we're still frenemies and all, but I'm glad she has a strong man at her side, that she has you."

The blond coughed fakely, "Weasel, you and I friends?"

"Nah, forget it, temporary brain malfunction." They exchanged a moment of male bonding, despite their words. "Make her happy, Draco."

"It's my plan all along,  _Ronald._ "

Harry embraced both wizards, "The happy ending." Both shoved Harry away, shaking their heads, feigning disgust.

-oOo-

She looked out the window, to the remainings of decorations, flying with the gentle breeze of the night. He watched her, the light of the moon gave her an angelic glow; approached her silently and caressed her shoulder with a gentle kiss, "This should have been our first wedding night. We have to make up for the loss."

His hands stroked the skin of her arms, lifting and bending one so it could reach his neck, to have free access to the side of her breast, which he palmed and kneaded. Her breath faulted.

Draco focussed his attention on the zipper and buttons on the back, pushing the full gown down until it fell as a puddle at her feet, admiring the sight before him. She was left in a bodice in the same cream colour as her dress, in see-through lace. The globes of her arse perfectly in view, with a simple thread of the thong connecting the small triangle at the front with the rear.

The bodice was tied together with ribbons, and he took his time releasing knot per knot, licking the freed skin. She shivered at the anticipation.

Finally, the entire garment joined with a plop the gown on the ground, the only remaining piece of cloth on her body, were the tiny knickers at her waist. Both hands palmed roughly her globes, massaging them, patting them. A single digit ran along the slit until it found a source of wetness, and it entered without previous advice. She gasped and jerked.

He growled against her arse, biting in the firm flesh. Turning her around and pushing her against the window, Draco undid her from the mountain of fabric at her feet; rose up, burying for a moment his nose in her pussy, licking it in one stroke; before continuing his travels towards her parted lips, stopping at her perked nipples and sucking one at the time deep inside his mouth.

Hermione moaned and held on to wherever her hands could reach, mostly his hair, giving it a pull when the jolts of fire were too much. "Draco."

He picked her up, bridal style, and brought her to their bed, lowering her perfectly in the middle and demanding his place between her spread legs. His signature smirk displayed in on his face, he let his eyes feast on her wet core, separating her nether lips for a better view of her engorged nub, and the glistening entrance.

"Perfection." Husky voice. Draco latched on her clit like a thirsty man, sucking, biting gently, lapping it as his favourite candy. His fingers found her quim and entered her heated core slowly, turning and retreating before pumping back and forth. She watched him intently, see his blond hair between her legs arose her to no end, especially his heated grey eyes focus on her face, searching for every sign of pleasure.

Thumb replaced his mouth and drew little circles, alternating the pressure on her engorged clit; his tongue lapped at her, licking and penetrating her, savouring her juices. He chuckled against her core, as his fingers returned to their merciless attack, fingering her relentlessly until she uttered incoherent words, legs flexing and stretching, drunk of the heated sensations running through her body. "Love, come for me. You're so beautiful, Hermione, cum in my face."

She arched her back and cried out her release, hips jerking uncontrollably only held back by the hand that kept her in place. He drunk from her well, never shifting his gaze away.

Propping himself up above her, he looked down at her blushing face, smiled and possessed her lips, giving her a taste of herself. Impatiently, her hand snaked between them, rubbed the tip of his head over her slit, before guiding him inside, gasping loudly when he stretched her in such a familiar way.

He rocked his hips against her, at a slow pace, delighting in her hot and sensitive walls. But Hermione wanted none of that. Hooking her legs around his waist, she forced him to increase the speed, hungry for a rough rutting instead of slow and languid thrusts. He complied, bed cracking under the force of his pumping. "You want hard and deep, love? Does my girl want to be taken roughly today?"

"Yes, Draco. Yes!"

He grabbed her leg under the knee and pulled her leg backwards, getting a new angle and hitting that special place inside. The slapping of skin against skin, his grunts and her moans sounded around their room, sweat running down his spine. He demanded her mouth, sucked on her nipples, while the other arm kept his chest upright, muscles straining from the effort.

But it was worth it, so worth it, to feel her come undone once more, squeezing his cock inside her walls, drawing out his own release and milking his hardness for every drop. He jerked multiple times, consumed by pleasure and prowess. This wildcat was his to keep. His to love and his to worship.

One last spurt of seed and Draco felt spent, falling on top of her for a moment, to regain some strength. He peppered her face with kisses, between his heavy breaths and smiles.

Hermione looked up and flashed him her most Slytherin of grins.

His eyebrow rose, "What is your brain cooking up?"

"I still have a present left." Many were the times she almost spilt her beans, but Hermione was proud of herself, for having self-control.

"And?"

"It has to do with memories."

"Which ones?" Draco kissed a finger at the time.

"Not multiple, only one we created."

"Which one?" He cradled her against his body, hand playing with her curls, admiring the blush on her face, the sign of a thoroughly satisfied woman.

Hermione caught his hand, and brought it to her belly, "This one, Draco. The one we created to erase the bad memory."

His breath sped up, face frowning, relaxing and smiling as if he was still catching up with her words. "Are...you...sure?"

She looked giddy in her answer, "If you want, I've studied the spell to know its gender."

"How? When?" He shook his head lightly, incredulous.

Hermione wanted to frame his face forever, its youth revealing the eagerness and the slight fear to be misunderstanding her. "Well, how, I know you know how, you just performed more than satisfying. When? I'm certain it was on the ground, after a scary but pleasant flight around the Manor."

"Hermione Jean Malfoy." He pushed her on her back, lowered until his face was at her belly, and kissed the slightly raised bump with reverence. "You mean the world to me." He cupped it with both hands, "Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Do you want to try that spell?" Her nod was barely finished, or he raced after his wand and told her to guide him. The pink glow brightened his face, "A little princess." He kept repeating the movement, bathing in the light shining in response, "The very first Malfoy princess."

"Cassie."

"What?"

"When we were searching for a name for our son, I looked over the girls' list, thinking of a plan-B in case Samantha was wrong. I came across Cassiopeia, which I shortcutted in my head, Cassie."

"Cassiopeia Malfoy. I like it."

"I rather go for Cassiopeia Narcissa Malfoy. Or will your mother not survive the cuteness."

"Love, Nana Cissa with Scorpio, she's one and all cuddly and pampering. She'll lose it with a namesake. Love." He inched closer to her face, palm stroking over the left side, bringing her gaze to his. "We're having a little girl."

-oOo-

The newest family member arrived later than planned, driving her mother nuts, who was exhausted of carrying all that extra weight and raising her fathers' anxiety to an unseen level. The labour itself ran smoothly according to the numbers, and the waiting room filled with smiling people.

When the proud father entered the room, baby safely wrapped in a pink blanket knitted by Molly, the oh's and ah's floated around the entire floor of St. Mungos. Scorpio watched the whole picture from his place in his godfather Harry's arms, pouted lips at the loss of the attention. A pudgy finger pointed at the bundle, "Asie?"

Draco smiled, "Yes, Scorpio, this is your sister Cassie." The huff that followed made everyone laugh aloud. The toddler was an exact copy of his father, including the feel for drama and antics, much to his father's desperation and hilarity of his mother and Nana.

Later they became thick as thieves and the reason for the early grey hairs on Draco's head, especially when a third boy was added to the equation, Severus. The youngest Malfoy was much more serene, devouring books as his mother, watching his father closely at his potions table from the moment he could stand on a chair.

The three grandchildren were Narcissa's most significant treasure and the delight of grandpa Lucius, who loved to watch the tots play from his high spot above the hearth. To everyone's relief, it was the man they used to love who returned.

Five years was their beginning, not the ending.

Not for the Silver Prince and his Golden Queen.


End file.
